


Flash Gordon

by zorac



Series: Portland Ninja [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), You Me Her (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorac/pseuds/zorac
Summary: Sequel toBuck Rogers. Max and Kate are in the honeymoon period of their new relationship, but their happiness is threatened when the Portland Ninja acquires an adversary bent on her demise.Major spoilers forLife is Strange, no real spoilers forYou Me Herbeyond the basic premise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danbuter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danbuter/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost exactly a year since I first played through _Life is Strange_ , and it definitely had a profound affect on me — not least in terms of the 130k words sat in my LiS writing folder (amounting to over three quarters of all the fanfic I’ve written in the last decade and a half…) So, thanks to the fine folks at Dontnod, all the other LiS fanfic authors here on AO3 (even if you make my own writing abilities feel woefully inadequate), and to all of you who've taken the time to read my stories, and to leave me comments and kudos. You’re the best.
> 
> This isn’t actually a story I originally planned on writing –  _Buck Rogers_ felt like a nice little self-contained tale. But then, someone left me a comment saying that they'd like to see the story continued, and soon after, one of those pesky plot bunnies came along and started gnawing on the base of my skull (I really don’t know why the seem to find it so tasty!) As this isn’t part of my main _Echo Park_ anthology, I won't be holding it to the self-imposed “T” rating, so there may be a hint of smut ahead. And by “may”, I mean “about five paragraphs in”...

Waking up with Kate is nothing new. We moved in together more than two years ago, and we’ve shared a bed for almost as long as we’ve been here. For most of that time, it was strictly platonic – nearly every night, I was waking up screaming from my nightmares and Kate, bless her, would never fail to come and comfort me. She often ended up staying in my bed afterwards, and soon decided that it would be easier if we simply slept in the same room to start with. We’d lucked out and got an apartment furnished with two queen beds, so it wasn’t really that awkward, even for someone as shy as Kate was.

Things changed a couple of months back, when we finally admitted our long-held feelings – both to ourselves, and to each other. Since then we’ve given up any pretense of maintaining separate bedrooms, or of sticking to opposite sides of the bed. Suddenly having a guest room available had the unexpected bonus of allowing my Mom and Dad to come visit us for the weekend without them having to stay in a hotel. It turned out that they’d suspected we were a couple since we first moved in together and just weren’t ready to come out; maybe there’s a grain of truth in that. As for _Kate’s_ parents… well, we have them pencilled in for ‘just after hell freezes over’; her sisters, on the other hand, she’s hopeful will come see us once they’ve left home.

So, yes, waking up in a bed with Kate isn’t new. Waking up with Kate cuddled into me isn’t new. The lack of clothing, the face and hand resting on my bare breasts, the pubes brushing against my thigh – that’s most definitely new. It’s barely a week since we started sleeping together euphemistically as well as literally. If that sounds like slow going then, well, maybe you’re right, but you’re also being hella judgmental. Not only were we both virgins, we both had… other issues to overcome. None of that matters now, though; I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and I’m pretty sure Kate is too.

Speaking of my girlfriend, she seems to be waking up. That hand starts to move, tracing slow circles around my breast. Her head shifts slightly, and I feel her lips wrapping around my nipple, sucking softly. My breath hitches, and a moment later she gently bites down on one nipple while pinching the other; I let out a low moan. Kate giggles and looks up at me. “Good morning, sweetie,” she says, before stretching up for a long, slow kiss. I trail my free hand slowly down her side and feel her shiver under my touch.

“Good morning, Katie,” I reply breathily once the kiss ends. She grins and pulls back slightly, her leg dragging mine with it as her hand trails down past my stomach. I’m already wet as her fingers slip between my thighs and begin to stroke me. It’s only a few short minutes before I’m shuddering with my release and crying out her name. Kate has a decidedly smug expression on her face as she slowly withdraws her fingers, and her eyes remain locked on mine as she licks them clean. It’s unbelievably hot, and a strange, slightly strangled, noise escapes my throat.

Considering Kate’s background – deeply religious upbringing, presidency of the abstinence club, internalized homophobia – it’s amazing that we ever ended up having sex at all. After the first time, though, it was like the floodgates had been opened. That shy girl is gone; she’s both surprisingly insatiable, and unexpectedly talented. Those are two things of which I’m the delighted recipient; I try to give as good as I get, naturally.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” asks Kate.

“Plan? It’s the weekend! I mean, I suppose we should probably get out of bed at some point, if only to eat; I was thinking of making some pancakes for breakfast.” She nods eagerly. “But first…” I roll towards Kate, pushing her onto her back and kissing a breast before sliding downwards. “I” _kiss_ “have” _kiss_ “a favor” _kiss_ “to return.” I slip her legs over my shoulders and lower my face to her, then pause for a moment, inhaling deeply before taking my first, slow taste. I’m not sure which of us moans loudest.

* * *

We’re just finishing up our pancakes when I hear the first of the sirens. Looking out of the window, I see a smoke cloud rising. Kate takes one look at my face, and gets up to grab the car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you there,” she says. I hurry into our bedroom to grab my ‘Portland Ninja’ outfit, then follow her out of the apartment door.

A few minutes later, Kate parks the Jag a block away from the burning building. My heart sinks as I see what it is: an orphanage. I know that with kids’ lives on the line, I’m going to push myself to the limit – and maybe beyond it. Kate looks at me, and I can tell that she saw what was going through my mind. She kisses me thoroughly. “Come back safe, okay?” Not trusting my voice, I simply nod in reply, then get out of the car and start running towards the fire.

As I reach the building, a couple of firefighters are coming out carrying kids. One of them I recognize from a couple of previous incidents, so I hope that she will trust me. “Hi, uh…” I read her name tag, “Yasmin. Is there anywhere you guys haven’t cleared?”

She looks at me for a moment. “There are a some rooms at the back of the top couple of floors that we can’t get to,” she says hesitantly, “there’s a second staircase that we didn’t find until it was too late.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see what I can do.” Dodging the other firefighters, I race straight into the building, skidding to a halt in the smoke-filled hallway. I hold up my hand, and rewind as far as I can, until the flash of pain stops me. The smoke is significantly thinner but I’m still going to need to be careful; the makeshift filter in my ninja mask can only do so much. Hearing the sirens of the fire engines arriving outside, I head deeper into the building, leaving the easier-to-reach parts to the professionals.

It takes me a few minutes to find it, but the back staircase leads me up to an attic space that only has windows facing away from the road. Half a dozen terrified young girls are clustered around them, looking down at a bare dirt yard five stories below. I stare at them for a moment, unsure what to do. I certainly don’t have the time or the rewind power to take them out individually. One of them turns around and points at me. “Look! It’s the Portland Ninja!”

“Er… hi,” I say awkwardly, walking over to them.

“Have you come to rescue us, Miss Ninja?” asks a second girl

“Yes,” I reply, with far more confidence than I actually feel. I decide that I’ll have to try something I’ve theorized about, but never actually done before. “I need you all to hold hands in a line so that I can lead you out of here. Can you do that for me?” They nod eagerly and form a chain. I grab the hand of the girl at the end and rewind as far as I can. It’s _much_ harder than usual, but to my relief, all six girls are still with me – it worked!

“Come on,” I tell them, “and try not to breath any smoke. If you bend over you should find clearer air close to the ground.” I push open the door, and begin leading them down the stairs. When we get to the next floor, the girl at the head of the line pulls at my hand. I turn, and she nods at a door.

“What about the boys?” she asks.

“I’ll come back for them, I promise.” She nods, and we hurry on down through the thickening smoke. I have to rewind again when some flaming wreckage smashes into the steps below us, but after that the way is clear. A few minutes later, I stumble out into the sunshine, and a ragged cheer goes up from the onlookers as several paramedics rush over to tend to the coughing kids. One of them offers me an oxygen mask, and I take a few grateful gulps before turning to run back into the building.

This time I know exactly where I’m going, so I only have to rewind once before I burst into the room where five boys are pulling uselessly at the bars on the only window. “Time to go,” I shout at them, “I need you to all hold hands so that I can lead you out of here.”

They all stare at me for a moment. “You’re a _girl_?” one of them asks incredulously, while another boy snatches his hand away from third who was reaching for it.

“Yes. The girl who’s going to save your sorry asses, so stop behaving like a bunch of macho idiots and form a chain – unless you’d rather burn to death, of course.” Hesitantly, they do as they’re told, and I drag them out and down the stairs; stopping to rewind when we reach a floor that’s completely aflame. This time, I encounter a couple of firefighters at the bottom of he stairs, and they help me get the boys outside.

I lean against one of the fire trucks for a moment to get my breath back. It’s not just the smoke and the physical exertions; bringing all those kids along on my rewinds has really taken it out of me. I wipe the blood away from under my nose – a sure sign that I’m pretty much out of juice. I look up just as the fire chief comes over to me.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or how you did it, but if it wasn’t for you those kids would never have made it out. I’ll be the first to admit that I had my doubts about someone running around the city like they’re something out of a comic book, but you’re the real deal.”

“Thanks.” If he’s surprised to hear a girl’s voice, he doesn’t show it – maybe comes from having women on his crew. “So everyone got out okay?”

He nods. “Yep. All the kids, all of my people, and nothing worse than a bit of smoke inhalation.” I smile under my mask as I look around. Then, my eyes narrow and the smile become a frown as I fail to find a familiar face.

“Where’s Yasmin?” I ask.

The chief quickly scans the crowd. “Johnson, where’s Yasmin?” he calls to one of his men, “She last went in with you.”

The guy runs over. “We were bringing some of the kids out when she found a door off the kitchen leading to a basement we hadn’t checked.”

“And you let her go down there alone?” The chief is spitting mad at this point.

“You know what she’s like; she wasn’t going to risk leaving some children trapped there, and I had to get the ones we’d already found out of the building.”

“Okay,” begins the chief, “we need to…” He’s cut off by an almighty crash as the roof of the burning building gives way; moments later, the whole thing comes down into a pile of flaming rubble. “Oh, fuck, no…”

I push off from the truck and briefly rest a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to remember this conversation, but I’m going to get her out.” Without waiting for a response, I run towards the remains of the orphanage, holding up my hand to rewind as I go. The building re-forms above me as I head in through the front door. I hit my limit just as I reach the kitchen, and the pain sends me reeling for a moment. I’m pretty sure I’ve only got one more left in me, so I need to make this count.

“What the hell?” It’s Johnson, with a bunch of teenagers.

“Where’s Yasmin?” He stares at me mutely for a moment, then points towards a dark doorway in the corner. “Thanks. You get this lot to safety; I’ll find her.” I’m heading down the stairs before he has the chance to say anything else. I find myself in a large open space, filled with support columns and piles of junk; no sign of life – except for a brightly lit doorway at one end, with a figure heading through it. I immediately head after her.

As I enter an oddly sterile and well-lit room, the door slams shut behind me, and there’s an ominous _clunk_ that sounds like some heavy-duty lock sliding into place. Yasmin spins around. “Hi, uh…”

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to give away my real name. “You can call me Chloe.”

She goes over to the door, and I realize that there isn’t even a handle on this side of it. “What the hell is going on, Chloe? I have a really bad feeling about this…”

I’m trying to come up with a clever response to her Star Wars quote, when there’s a burst of static, and a computer monitor on a desk in the corner of the room flashes into life. I can see a webcam taped to the top of it, and my sense of dread grows. “The Portland Ninja, trapped at last,” says a deep voice, “just like my son.” There’s a head on the monitor, but wearing a large hood, leaving their face in shadows. “And just like you didn’t save him, no-one’s going to save you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your son…” I begin.

“And why didn’t you? You rescued plenty of other people from that construction site.”

“I’m not Superman! There are limits to what I can do.”

“Who are you to decide who lives, and who dies?”

“I don’t _decide_ anything. I just save the people I can save,” _and have nightmares about the ones I can’t_ , I continue silently. “And what about you? Who are _you_ to decide that I should die? And what about her,” I point at Yasmin, “what’s she done to deserve death?”

The voice is hesitant now. “She’s… collateral damage. I’m sorry, I really am, but there’s nothing I can do for her now. Your time is almost up.”

I turn to Yasmin and hold out my left hand to her. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes…?” I can hear the thunderous roar of the building collapsing above us as she takes my hand and I pull us back through time. Moments later, the door pops back open and I drag her through it, slamming it behind us just as I feel the blinding pain of my rewind running out.

“Are you okay?” asks Yasmin. “How did you do that?”

“No time to explain,” I manage through gritted teeth. “We need to get the hell out of here, the whole place is about to come down.” She simply nods, and helps me across the basement and up the stairs. When we emerge into the kitchen, the flames are all around us, but I’ve recovered my strength a little.

Yasmin looks at me. “We need to run for it.”

“Yeah,” I reply, and we’re off, racing along burning corridors. We’ve just reached the main hall when I hear the roof giving way above us; I grab Yasmin’s hand and we sprint for the exit as the building collapses around us, propelling us out of the front door in a cloud of dust and smoke. We land in a tangled heap on the street outside. “Ow,” I moan, weakly.

“Are you okay?” asks Yasmin. I take a quick inventory; it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.

“I think so. I’m going to have an impressive new collection of bruises, though.” She laughs, which turns into a cough as a couple of medics come to check us over. A few minutes later, they’ve given us both a clean bill of health, and we’re sat on the back of an ambulance, sharing a tank of oxygen.

“So,” begins Yasmin, “what happened down there? Who was that guy? How did you get us out?” I look at her a moment before answering, then decide to tell her the truth – most likely she’d see through any lie I could make up on the spur of the moment.

“I really don’t know who he was. He mentioned a construction site, so I have an idea of what he might be talking about.” That was the day Kate and I finally admitted our feelings, so it’s burned into my memory. “There were a lot of people I couldn’t save that day,” I whisper. Yasmin wraps an arm around me, and I rest my head on her shoulder for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I know all too well what that’s like.”

“Now here’s the crazy part; here’s how I got us out of there.” I take a deep breath from the tank. “I can rewind time.” Yasmin just stares at me, a distant expression on her face. “Not very far; a few minutes at best, and I can only do it a few times before it runs out, but… well, that’s how I do what I do.”

Yasmin nods slowly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that actually makes sense. I’ve seen you go into a building, and come out again seconds later with someone it should have taken you minutes to reach. Plus, I just saw it with my own eyes. So, thank-you; I owe you my life.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t. If it wasn’t for that crazy guy on the monitor, you never would have been in danger in the first place – it was me he seemed to be after. Let’s just call it even.”

Yasmin looks like she’s about to argue, but then she just smiles. “Okay. So, um, did you want to talk any more about what happened down there?”

I shake my head again. “Not really.” The adrenaline is wearing off, and suddenly I’m shaking. “Not yet.”

“You do get that he almost certainly started that fire deliberately, right?” I nod. “There’s going to be an investigation. We _will_ find him. Until then, you be extra-careful, okay? He doesn’t know how close he came, but he may well try something like that again.”

“Okay. Thanks. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“You said you thought you knew about the construction site?”

“Yeah.” I give her the date and the address as best as I can remember; Yasmin pulls a small notepad out of a pocket and writes down the details.

“Hopefully that will help the cops track down this piece of shit.”

The fire chief comes over to us. “You two okay?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” replies Yasmin; I simply nod.

“Good. As soon as you’re ready, we could use you.” He turns to me. “And thanks for your help, whoever you are. Keep up the good work.” He gives me a brisk nod, then walks away.

“Coming from him, that’s high praise,” says Yasmin with a smile. She scribbles something on her notepad. “Look, I need to get back to work, but it was really great to meet you, and…” she tears the sheet off hand hands it to me. “Here’s my number, if you ever need someone to talk to about this, or…” she trails off for a moment, before continuing shyly, “or if maybe you’d like to get a drink some time.”

I just stare at her for a moment, stunned; the last person to actually ask me out was Warren, way back at Blackwell. “I… uh… I’m flattered, but…”

Yasmin flushes, and hurriedly interrupts, “you’re not into girls. I’m sorry, my gaydar is terrible, and…”

“No, no, it’s not that. I… I already have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” She’s crestfallen. “Well, she’s a lucky woman.”

I smile. “I’m pretty sure _I’m_ the lucky one. But if I _was_ single, I would totally be up for that drink.”

“Thanks, that’s good to hear.” She pauses, before asking, “does she know?”

“She’s the only other person who does; we were best friends long before we were actually together, and she helped me work through… let’s just say that today was a picnic compared to the week when I first got this power.”

“I’m glad you have someone you can talk to about it.” I can detect a hint of sadness in her voice.

“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t use another friend who _really_ knows what this,” I gesture at the scene around us, “is like. Assuming that it wouldn’t be hella awkward after…”

“No, I’d like that.” She looks up, and I see that the chief is gesturing to her. “I need to go. Call me?”

“Count on it. It was really nice to meet you, Yasmin.”

“You too, Chloe.” She gets up, and I do the same, impulsively giving her a quick hug.

“Be safe,” I tell Yasmin, before slipping away. Hidden behind one of the fire trucks, I quickly strip off my Ninja outfit and stuff it into bag. I sneak around the back of the crowd, and head off in search of Kate.

* * *

I spot the Jag parked up a couple of blocks away from the ruins of the orphanage. Kate is leaning back against it, tapping her foot nervously. When she looks up and sees me, she comes running and pulls me into a bear hug. “Are you okay?” She asks, after a moment. “You vanished from the apartment just after we heard the sirens, so I guessed that you were here.”

“Yeah, you drove me over, but obviously I undid that with the first rewind. Other than a few bruises and a little too much smoke in the lungs, I’m fine. An actual medic checked me out, and everything”

“And the children?”

“All safe.”

“My hero,” says Kate, before kissing me. It’s not a brief kiss, either. “So,” she asks at last, “how many people did you save today?” She’s taken to asking me this after every Ninja outing, reminding me to focus on the people I’ve helped rather than the ones I couldn’t.

“Eleven cute kids and one cute firefighter,” I tell her.

Kate raises an eyebrow at this. “Should I be jealous?”

“Well, she did give me her number and ask me out for drinks…” I leave that dangling, with a smile.

“Clearly she has excellent taste,” Kate tells me with a mock-serious expression. “I do hope you set her straight, though.”

“I’m not sure that’s quite the right turn of phrase,” I say with a smirk, “but yes, I did let her know I already have a girlfriend.”

“Good, good. I hope you didn’t break her heart _too_ badly.”

“She did seem a little disappointed, but I think that mostly she was just relieved that I didn’t turn out to be a mortally offended straight woman.”

Kate laughs at that. “And hey, now we have someone to call if we ever feel like a threesome.” She almost manages a straight face, but I can see the suppressed smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. I really love this playful, teasing side of Kate that’s emerged over the last few weeks.

“Well, I was still planning on calling her; it would be good to have someone to talk to who really understands what its like. Not,” I hurry to add, “that you haven’t been super-supportive…”

Kate reaches out to lay a hand on my cheek for a moment. “It’s okay, I understand. It’s not like I’ve ever actually run into a burning building, or done any of the other amazing things you do. Having someone in your support network with those experiences can only be a good thing. Heck, having somebody in your support network who isn’t me would probably be a good thing for both of us. As much as I love you, I doubt that being each other’s everything makes for a healthy relationship.”

I pull Kate into another kiss. “I love you too, and thanks for understanding. So, who are you going to pick as _your_ new confidante? Victoria, perhaps?”

Kate snorts derisively. “Maybe in some bizarre alternate universe where she actually cares about anyone other than herself…” I look at her in surprise for a moment. “Okay, I have no idea where that came from.”

“Personal experience?”

“I guess, but even so, I don’t think _that_ badly of her. She may have tried to _buy_ forgiveness,” she reaches out and strokes her car, “but at least she did try.” Neither of us particularly wants to discuss Victoria any further, so we lapse into silence. I know that I should tell Kate what happened in the basement, but I don’t want to worry her, not when she’s in such a happy place. “Come on,” she says eventually, “we should head home.”

“Yeah, I could really use a long soak in a hot bath,” I tell her as we climb into the car. “Then maybe we could just veg out in front of the TV this afternoon and watch some movies. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“Sounds good,” says Kate as she puts the car into gear. “I’m thinking… _Backdraft_ , or maybe _The Towering Inferno_ …”

The teasing puts a smile on my face which stays there until I slide a hand into my pocket and feel the torn-off sheet of paper in there. That’s when it comes crashing back: somebody tried to kill me today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With all the multi-chap fics I’ve posted before, I haven’t actually put anything up until the whole thing is finished and just in need of final polish. That’s not the case here, so it will probably be some time before there’s anything more, although I do have some ideas for where the plot’s going; there will definitely be at least another couple of chapters… eventually.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops. Sorry for the wait; I guess that’s what happens when I post a chapter from a work-in-progress… Hopefully the wait for the next chapter won’t be quite as long as it's already about half done, but I’ll refrain from making any promises.

It’s Monday evening, a couple of weeks after the fire at the orphanage. I know that _something_ happened in there; something Max doesn’t want to talk about. Or, at least, something she doesn’t feel comfortable discussing with _me_. I’m not sure what it might be, but I’m starting to get worried about her. I decide that a little push is in order; if she won’t talk to me, maybe there’s someone else she will.

“So you remember I have that life drawing class tomorrow evening?” I ask her.

“Uh… yeah of course.”

“I was thinking that maybe you should give that cute lady firefighter of yours a call, see if she’d like to have that drink you were talking about.”

“Wait, are you trying to set me up on a date?”

“Not exactly, but I will be spending the entire evening staring intently at a naked woman who isn’t my girlfriend. It seems only fair that you should have some fun too.”

“Huh, somehow I’d blocked the ‘nude model’ part from my memory. Possibly I didn’t quite believe it.”

“Yes, well I’m no longer that prudish girl you knew at school – as you may have noticed…”

“Indeed I had, and I’m _very_ happy about it,” Max tells me with a grin.

“So, are you going to call her?”

Her eyes narrow. “Okay, fine, I can tell you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.” She grabs her phone, goes over to the kitchen pin-board, retrieves a fragment of paper, and dials the number on it. “Hi, it’s, uh, Chloe … yeah … well, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow evening … that’s great … okay, I’ll see you then … okay, bye!”

“All sorted?” I ask as she hangs up.

“Yup, you may have your nude model, but I’ve got a hot date… get it? She’s a firefighter?”

“That was terrible, Max, but I’m glad. I hope you have a fun evening – but don’t do anything _I_ wouldn’t do.”

“Well,” drawls Max, “you’re not the president of the abstinence club any more, so…”

“Don’t you dare, Maxine Caulfield.” I take a step towards her. “You’re mine.” I grab a handful of her shirt and pull her into a kiss. “Or do I need to make sure that you’re too worn out to get up to any mischief?” My hand begins working its way under the waistband of her jeans.

“Uh… dinner?” Max asks.

“Can wait,” I suggest, as my fingertip finds her clit and begins to stroke it.

“Mmmmkay,” manages Max, then she leans forward for another kiss.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I roll onto my back, exhausted. We’re both naked, and the bed is littered with discarded toys and empty pizza boxes.

“Wow,” says Max, breathing heavily. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow, let alone get up to any funny business.”

I smirk. “Excellent!” I say, in an – admittedly poor – imitation of Mister Burns.

“Seriously, Kate, where the fuck did that come from? Not that I’m complaining…”

“Well, you know I’ve been doing that drama class?”

“Yeah…”

“They encourage us to do these improv role-playing exercises, really get outside our comfort zones. Tonight… came out of one of those.”

“Seriously, Kate, you have all the hottest classes… maybe I’m the one who should be concerned!”

I laugh as I get up off the bed. “Don’t worry, I haven’t been making out with any of my fellow thespians, even if a couple of the girls are really cute.” I head towards the door. “I’m going to go grab a quick shower if that’s okay.”

“Uh… Katie?”

“Yes, Max?”

She flexes her wrists against the bedstead. “Would you mind untying me first?”

* * *

It’s Tuesday evening, and I’m sat nervously in a bar, waiting for Yasmin to arrive. I know this isn’t actually a date, but I certainly feel jittery enough – not that I’ve ever actually been on a proper first date. Kate and I had been together for years before we were _together_ , so it wasn’t like I was out to meet someone I barely know…

“Chloe?”

I turn around to see Yasmin wearing a pale turquoise dress which makes her look _incredible_. I get a bit of a sinking feeling – it certainly looks more like a ‘date’ outfit than a ‘girls’ night out’ outfit, and I worry she’s misunderstood my intentions. Also, I suddenly feel woefully underdressed in my jeans, T-shirt and hoodie. “Uh, hi, Yasmin. It’s nice to see you again. I have to say you look fantastic,” I tell her, perhaps a little awkwardly.

“Thanks, Chloe. Look, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I know this isn’t really a date, and I know I’m more than a little overdressed for that, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had an excuse to dress up for _anything_.”

I give her a smile that’s much more genuine now. “I guess I can understand that, even if I’ve never been much of a girly-girl myself.” I order us some drinks, then we retire to a booth in a far corner of the bar. “Look, there’s something I need to tell you: Chloe isn’t my real name.”

“I did wonder. You hesitated before telling me, like you were trying to make something up.”

“Yeah, I was in my superhero persona, couldn’t go giving away my secret identity. That would be like, I dunno, Ms Marvel going around telling everyone her name is Kamala Khan. Anyway, my real name is Maxine Caulfield, but you can call me Max.”

“Pleased to meet you, Max; and thanks for trusting me. That means a lot. Also, kudos on the Kamala Khan reference – she’s _totally_ my hero. I’m a Pakistani-American Muslim woman, so it’s like one day somebody at Marvel sat down and decided to write a comic that’s just for me. Not only that, but she’s totally _awesome_. I literally cried when I first read it; when ‘not a terrorist’ seemingly as much as we could hope for, having a Muslim character be a mainstream superhero felt really, really good. Plus it’s nice to have them show that not all of us chose to wear a hijab, let alone a burqa.”

“Speaking from a place of white privilege, I’m really glad that we’re getting a bit more diversity in comics these day. Oh, and just FYI, you _are_ a hero, Yasmin.”

“I’m only a firefighter, Max.”

“Which means that you put your life on the line to save people a damn sight more often than I do – and you don’t even have any superpowers. Who’s the hero now?”

Yasmin looks at me for a long moment. “I take your point. Thanks, that means a lot. So… why ‘Chloe’?” She must see the flash of pain on my face because she immediately starts to apologize, but I cut her off.

“That’s okay, the last thing I want to do is to forget about her.” I take a deep breath. “Chloe was my childhood best friend. She was the first person I ever fell in love with. And she died because I couldn’t save her.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I want to tell you about her. She died a hero, but no-one will ever know about it unless I tell them; and no-one will believe it unless they already know about my time powers. The first time I discovered I could rewind was when I saw Chloe get shot. The five days that followed changed my life forever. They were incredible… and terrible. I saw Chloe die so many times, in so many different ways. I fell in love with her, and I was ready to sacrifice a whole town to keep her alive. There was this massive storm coming in from the Pacific; it was clearly unnatural, so we were convinced it was being caused by my time powers. Chloe insisted that I go back and undo everything, let her die to get rid of the storm.”

“Whoah. I can only imagine what it was like to have to make that choice. Wait… I though you said you could only go back a few minutes?”

“I had another power that allowed me to jump further back by going through a photo. Problem is, when I got back from letting Chloe die, it hadn’t changed a fucking thing – except that the photo power was gone. Chloe had died for nothing, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. The storm hit the town, and I just… lost it. People were dying all around me, and I just kept rewinding, and rewinding, and rewinding. I felt like I had to save everyone, to make Chloe’s sacrifice mean something. But, eventually, my power ran out, and I wandered away from town, found a place to hide, and passed out.”

“That sounds awful. So, your girlfriend, did she know about your powers then, or is she someone you told later?”

“Later; Kate was actually the one who found me, a couple of days after the storm, but I wasn’t really capable of putting two words together at the time. My parents showed up and whisked me back home to Seattle before we had the chance to talk. We kept in sporadic touch by text over the next few months; Kate was finishing up her senior year at a school here in Portland, and I… I was having a meltdown. I felt like I was suffocating at home, so after the holidays I managed to get a job as a photographer for the local paper here.”

“Because of Kate?”

“Yeah, although at that point it was just because she was the only friend I had outside of Seattle. Of course, moving to another city actually did fuck all to make my problems go away. Sure, Kate was the most awesome, supportive friend I could possibly have hoped for, but I hadn’t appreciated just how much having my parents there for me – day in, day out – had been keeping me afloat. I started drinking; not too much, if only because I couldn’t afford it on my pitiful salary, but it started to become a problem.”

“I managed to hide it from Kate for a good few weeks, until one Friday night after I’d been having a particularly bad mental health day, when she made an unannounced visit and found me half-way through a bottle of Jack. Apparently I was an overly talkative drunk because the next morning she asked some very pointed questions about time travel, and I ended up telling her the truth about everything. That was when things finally started to get better; having somebody I could _really_ talk to and be honest with.”

“I hear you,” Yasmin says, “I’ve seen some truly awful things over the last few years, but unlike you, I’m not doing it alone. Knowing that there’s always someone else who was there, and being able to talk about it with them… it really helps. Even if it doesn’t stop _all_ the nightmares.”

I shudder. “I used to wake up screaming every night, alone and terrified. That’s something else Kate helped me with; after we got a place together, she would always come through to my room after I had a nightmare, tell me it was going to be okay, and hold me until I went back to sleep. After a while, we stopped trying to sleep in separate rooms, and Kate developed something of a sixth sense; now she often wakes up before me and can pull me out of the nightmare part way through. They’ve been a lot less frequent since we finally admitted our feelings, too.”

I glance at Yasmin. “I’m sorry, probably the last thing you want to hear is me going on about how awesome my girlfriend is.”

“Think highly of yourself, much?” she asks, archly. “I asked you out because I thought you were cute and interesting; it wasn’t exactly a devastating blow to find that someone I’d only known for a few minutes isn’t actually single. I’m not some love-struck schoolgirl or, y’know, a man.”

“Ouch. I guess I deserved that.”

“Yes, Max, you did.” Her expression softens, though.

“I apologize; I was rude, _and_ I’ve been talking about myself non-stop. So, tell me, what made you want to be a firefighter?”

She smiles. “You make it sound like some great calling, but it really wasn’t like that. I was never very academically inclined; I mean, I’m not stupid, but I was never going to be heading off to university, at least not to study anything worthwhile – and why take on that mountain of debt for something you’re not passionate about? I don’t see the point in getting some wishy-washy liberal arts degree which I use for precisely nothing while I spend the rest of my life as a cog in some corporate machine.”

“And so I set out to find something to do with my life. I went to a couple of job fairs, and at one of them, Portland Fire and Rescue were recruiting. It was a couple of actual firefighters manning the stand, not some HR types. One of them was the chief you met the other day, the second was a woman by the name of Emma; she would end up being my mentor for the first few months on the job. The chief was refreshingly frank: he told me up front that City Hall was pushing the department to improve their diversity numbers, but that the fact I checked a whole bunch of minority checkboxes wasn’t going to help me get the job if I didn’t have what it took.”

“I respected that – if I ever have to go into a fire with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, I’ll mostly be praying it’s only themselves they get killed. Anyway, years of helping out in my Dad’s machine shop, and doing a bunch of sports at school had kept me in great shape, so I was confident I could do the work; and helping people, saving lives, even? Certainly seemed pretty worthwhile to me.”

“Absolutely! Not like being a small-time news reporter.”

“Say, have you ever thought of taking pictures of your _other_ work to make a little extra money?”

“Sure, if I wanted to give away my secret identify to anyone who’s ever heard of Peter Parker.”

Yasmin laughs. “You make a good point.”

* * *

By the next day, I’m finally feeling recovered enough that I’m ready to be the Portland Ninja again. Rather than listening to music while I clean the house, I hook up my police scanner, and keep an ear out for trouble. I’m busy scrubbing the bathtub when I hear the dispatcher talking about a fire at the Hamilton school. Without a second though, I drop everything, grab my backpack and helmet, and run down to the parking garage.

One of the new tricks I’ve learned over the last month is how to briefly slow down time, effectively giving me super-human reflexes. This means I can ride my motorbike like I’m Trinity in the slightly less awful of the _Matrix_ sequels, giving me a way of getting to ‘incidents’ as quickly as possible without burning up too much of my rewind power on the way. Plus, it makes me feel hella cool; I know Chloe would have approved.

It’s chaos when I get to the school; there are already several ambulances and fire engines on site, along with the cops who are trying to keep the crowd of students and other onlookers out of the way of the rescue workers. I park up as close to their cordon as I dare, then duck into some bushes to do my quick-change thing. I emerge several minutes earlier, my head reeling with rewind shock; the police are gone, but there are still a couple of fire engines. As I jog towards the main entrance, I spot Yasmin’s fire chief; our eyes meet, and I throw him a jaunty salute. A quick scan of the firefighters manning the hoses doesn’t reveal my friend, so I assume she must be inside.

As I enter the building, I realize that I’m already too late to do much good: the fire is everywhere, and I can see piles of debris down one of the corridors that look like they were caused by some sort of explosion. Taking a deep breath, I do something I’ve only tried a couple of times before: I rewind again, forcing my way past the block. When I hit the second limit, the pain all but incapacitates me, and I stagger backwards, slumping against some lockers. After a few moments, I realize that the ringing my ears isn’t just in my head, and look around.

The fire is gone, here at least, but I can still see the debris from the explosion; a sparking cable dangles from the ceiling, seemingly searching for something to ignite. Glancing back towards the entrance, I see a few students straggling out; no sign of the firefighters yet. And then, ahead of me, a fire blossoms into life. I hurry towards the debris, looking for any sign of survivors, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone at all – it’s as if whatever it was happened in an empty corridor during classes.

Another sound registers over the noise of the fire alarm: someone screaming and pounding on something. I track it to a girls’ bathroom, where the door is jammed by a fallen beam. Thankful for all the time I put in at the gym, I manage to shift the beam and free the door; a teenage girl practically falls on top of me as I push it open. She stares for a moment, before telling me, “well, it’s about time.”

Somewhat taken aback, I reply, “you’re welcome,” my voice laced with sarcasm.

“Sorry. Snark is my default response to stress. Thanks for getting me out of there.”

I eye the fire spreading behind her. “No problem, kid, but we need to get you out of here.”

“Kid? I have a name, it’s Ava. And you don’t sound much older then me!”

“Maybe,” I tell her, as I drag her towards the entrance, “but since I’m dressed like a Ninja and you’re just in a school uniform…”

“…we sound like a bad anime cliché?”

I laugh, in spite of myself. “Get outta here, Ava… wait.” I grab her hand, and rewind the fire back to a size I can get past.

“What the hell was that?”

“A little bit of Ninja magic. Now go!” I turn, and run back down the corridor just as the fire begins to spread. I quickly check door after door, but find no-one else. It’s beginning to feel like I’ve been wasting my power on this call – until I remember how far the fire had spread when I first got here; Ava wouldn’t have stood a chance. I decided that even one life saved is enough to justify it, any other line of thinking seems like a dangerous path to go down.

I round a corner and walk smack into a pair of firefighters leading out another student. “We must stop meeting like this,” drawls Yasmin after a moment, then, “Johnson, get him out of here; the Ninja can spot me while I check that last corridor.” He grumbles, but leads the boy away. “What’s your count today?”

“Just the one.”

“Us too, and I’ve only heard one other report of a survivor – and no casualties. The school did a damn fine job of their evacuation.”

We turn onto another corridor; theres’s plenty of smoke, but no fire here; we check the classrooms but find them empty. There’s one more door at the end, I open it to find stairs leading downwards. Yasmin reaches me just as I hear the faint voice calling for help. “I have a bad feeling about this,” I tell her.

“Me too, and after that last basement we ventured into, this seem unpleasantly familiar. We can’t leave whoever it is down there, though.” She leads the way down, and I follow her without hesitation. We find ourselves in some sort of boiler room, and follow the sound of the voice to a boy in his late teens who’s been handcuffed to some pipes.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask him as Yasmin produces some bolt cutters and sets him free.

“I was skipping class when some lunatic in a ninja costume grabbed me and dragged me down here.” He’s eyeing me suspiciously until he stands up. “He was much taller than you, though.”

“Isn’t everyone?” I mutter. “Yasmin, you need to get him to safety. I can finish checking the basement by myself.”

“No, Ma… Chloe. You shouldn’t be down here alone.”

I quickly pull her aside and switch to a whisper. “You know why I’ll be fine, but I don’t have enough juice left to pull the two of you along with me on a rewind.”

“It’s a trap!” she hisses back at me.

“Of course it is, but I have to be sure that he wasn’t the only bait.” I can see she’s wrestling with her conscience. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”

She only hesitates for a moment. “I hate it when other people are right. Come out safe, or I’ll kill you myself.” Then, loudly to the student. “C’mon, let’s go!” I press on further into the basement, soon encountering a strong smell of gas in the air, making me a little woozy. After a couple of minutes, I reach the back wall; there’s no-one else down here.

“The Portland Ninja at last,” comes the tinny voice, “here to pay for what happened to my son.”

“I don’t know who your son is, or what it was that I’ve done to him.” I look around, but don’t see any sign of a screen this time. I do spot a camera taped up in a corner, though.

“It doesn’t matter now who he was, and it wasn’t what you did, it’s what you didn’t do. You didn’t save him.” A familiar refrain, but I want to keep my adversary talking in the hope that he’ll let something slip.

“I’m sorry. I can’t save everyone. Maybe if you tell me more about when this happened, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. When you took on the power, you took on the responsibility – and the penalty for failure.”

“So your answer is to stop me helping more people? To put more parents through what you’re feeling right now?”

“If I have to feel it, then at least I won’t be feeling it alone. Goodbye.”

My hand flies up instinctively as the ceiling begins to disintegrate above me. Instead of flying back upwards, the dust and rubble hangs suspended in the air; I realize that I’ve pushed myself too far and only have seconds to escape. I flash back to seeing my beloved Katie up on the roof of the Prescott dorm as I push my way through the hanging debris. Relief floods me as I spot a metal door embedded in the side wall a few yards away. I mange to reach it and, after a few moments struggling against the rusty hinges, pull it open. I step through and slam it shut behind me just as the last of my rewind gutters out.

And then, the whole world blows up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit less of a wait this time — although that’s mostly because I wrote half of this chapter before the precious one. Still, I did leave you with a bit of a cliff-hanger last time, so I thought I’d try and get this update out a little sooner.
> 
> Also, fair warning: we’re venturing slightly into cross-over territory here. I kinda wanted to borrow a character from _You Me Her_ seeing as that’s also set in Portland. No knowledge required, and no real spoilers beyond the basic premise.

I’m slightly nervous when I arrive for my life drawing class; whilst what I told Max yesterday evening about no longer being a prude is mostly true, the girl who ran the abstinence club is still in there, waiting for the chance to make herself known. Sure, I’ve been learning to let my inhibitions go in the bedroom, but outside of our apartment, my more reserved nature still tends to reassert itself. Mostly, I’m okay with that; as long as it doesn’t interfere in the relationship with my girlfriend, that’s all that really matters.

Even so, when the model comes in, I’m relieved that she isn’t a twenty-something beauty, but rather a plain, middle-aged woman. When she drops her robe, I see that her body is what might politely be described as ‘interesting’. That’s okay; I’m here to draw her, not to ogle her. When our instructor calls time a couple of hours later, I review my sketches and discover that with each one I’ve found some of the beauty in this woman. I flush in shame of what I originally thought of her – something that only deepens when I realize that she’s standing right next to me.

“Is that really how you see me?” she asks.

“Yes. Don’t you see yourself that way? How else would you have the self-confidence to…” I gesture towards where she’d been posing for us.

She briefly rests a hand on my shoulder. “Oh honey, that’s not confidence; it’s just having no shits left to give.” Then she moves on to the next student. I leave the studio on autopilot, still mulling over the fine line between confidence, and simply not caring what other people think. I’m snapped out of it by a buzz from my phone: a message from Max telling me that Yasmin is on shift the next day, so she’s going to be heading home soon.

I don’t have as far to go, so I’m curled up on the couch in flannel pajamas and a fluffy robe, catching up on Facebook, by the time Max gets back. “So, how was your date?” I ask her.

“Well… Yasmin showed up in this stunning dress, I mean,” she fans herself, “Wowsers!” I simply quirk an eyebrow at her, not rising to the bait; Max grins at me. “Straight away, she made it clear it wasn’t a date, and was just longing for an excuse to dress up, and then laid a smackdown on me when I made a rather condescending apology for talking you up.”

“I like her more and more.”

“Yeah, I think I really put my foot in it there. From our later conversation, I get the impression that a couple of her exes cheated on her. She takes a very dim view of people who pursue someone who’s already in a relationship, so me having suggested she might be like that…” Max winces. “Still, she brushed it off and we had a really great evening.”

“Good, I’m glad. You could use another friend.”

“Yeah, although it feels oddly like she’s almost a work colleague.”

“Well, I suppose it’s the closest you’re going to get, unless you get an invite to join the Avengers.”

“Hey, it could happen. I would totally be an asset, and they need more girls on the team.”

“You do realize they’re fictional, right?”

“Quit stomping on my dreams, Katie!” she exclaims, in mock outrage, and we share a laugh. “So, how was your evening. Did you enjoy spending hours staring at a beautiful, naked woman?”

“See for yourself,” I tell her, pulling the sketches out of my portfolio and handing them to her. She spends a couple of long minutes studying them.

“Wow, Kate, these are incredible. We should totally call Victoria about getting you a showing.”

“I think she’s a little busy at the moment.” I gesture at my laptop. “She just posted about having a show at some fancy gallery down in San Francisco.”

“Good for her,” says Max, with only the tiniest hint of reluctance. “I still think it’s weird that you and Victoria are Facebook friends, though.”

I shrug. “I’m not going to hold some terrible decisions she made as a teenager over her forever. Besides, it’s not like there are so many of us left from Blackwell that I want to just cut off anyone…” The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself; Max flinches back like I’ve slapped her. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” I pull her into a hug, but she’s stiff as a board. “God, I’m so sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean it like that, I would never…”

“S’okay,” she mumbles into my shoulder, slowly relaxing. We stay like that for a while, as I gently stroke her hair. Eventually, Max looks up. “I’m sorry, Katie, I know you don’t blame me, I just… I don’t think I’m ever going to stop blaming myself.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetie. I love you, and I refuse to believe that there’s anything you could ever do that would change that.”

“I love you too, more than I ever thought was possible. I want to grow old and grey together with you – just, not for a few decades yet.” I can almost feel my heart glowing as Max gets up and pulls me after her. “Come on, let’s head to bed. I’m still pretty tired after last night.”

“Oh,” I say, feigning disappointment, “so… you’re not up for round two, then?” Max looks at me for a moment; even after all these years, it seems she still can’t always tell when I’m teasing her.

“You are insatiable, Miss Marsh,” she tells me, “but I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I tell her.

Max finally grins. “You’d better. It was _way_ too much fun to be a one-time thing.”

I hang up my robe, then sit cross-legged on the bed to watch Max as she gets changed. Long gone is the embarrassment I used to feel; now, I drink in the sight. Sensing my eyes on her, she undresses slowly, almost a strip-tease, then heads to the bathroom stark naked, an exaggerated sway to her hips. When she returns, she takes an inordinately long time selecting a pair of pajamas before finally pulling them on and climbing into bed next to me.

“You’re terrible,” I tell her. “I though you said you were too tired for more… mischief.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I want to go to sleep without a little physical intimacy.”

Max pulls me close, and I lose track of time as we give ourselves over to soft kisses and gentle caresses. Hands wander under clothes, but to no real purpose. Lips venture down necks, but no further. Bodies press together in comfort rather than passion. I feel every bit as connected to my girlfriend as when we were making love the night before. And then, still holding each other, we drift off to sleep.

* * *

Wednesdays are easily the lightest day in my schedule. I just have a couple of classes in the morning, and that’s it. The second of those is an intro to psych, which I picked up both to add a little variety to my schedule, and because it did actually sound pretty interesting. The assignments always get me thinking, too – and today is no exception.

“So,” says the professor, “this week’s assignment is called ‘Shrink and Subject’. Yes, the derogatory nickname is deliberate; none of you have anything approaching a qualification in this yet. I’m going to randomly split you into pairs, and you’re going to find time before the next class to sit down and have a nice, long chat, each playing both roles. Shrinks: your subject is going to tell you their secrets, and your job is to listen impartially and impassively, and to ask questions that tease out all the little details they don’t want anyone else to know.”

“This is also a trust exercise, people, and I expect you to treat this like doctor-patient confidentiality. If I find out that anyone has passed on something they heard during this assignment, then not only will that person be getting an automatic fail in this class, they’ll be up in front of the honor council trying to justify why they belong at this school at all. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s a low murmur of assent, and the prof starts reading off names, calling students down to the front to meet their partners. I’m so deep in though about what I’m going to say to this person – probably a stranger – that I almost miss my own name. I hurry down and find myself confronted by an undeniably pretty girl with dark, curly hair.

“Hi, I’m Kate,” I tell her, holding out my hand.

“Izzy,” she says as she shakes it, “nice to meet my victim for this little piece of fun.”

“Should I be worried?” I ask, but I saw the twinkle in her eye and am actually relieved. The last thing I want is to be paired up with someone lacking a sense of humor, or who’s planning on taking things a little too seriously.

“Nah,” waves Izzy dismissively, “I’m a total pussycat, really.”

“So, when do you want to do this? I actually don’t have any classes this afternoon, so…”

“Me neither. Shall we go grab some lunch and then get this over with?”

I blink. “Sure, why not.”

* * *

Half an hour or so later, we’re sat on the lawn, finishing up our sandwiches and polite small talk.

“So,” I ask Izzy, “which role do you want to take first?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure. I’m kinda nervous right now. I saw your crucifix, and you talked about going to church, and with my secrets…”

“The Bible has something to say about that, you know.”

“About what? I haven’t actually told you anything yet.”

“‘Judge not, lest ye be judged.’”

“Oh, right, yeah. I’ve heard that one. With respect, it doesn’t seem to stop Christian fundamentalists judging people left right and center. Well, mostly people on the left.”

I sigh. “I know, and that really pi… gets on my nerves. I could never do that, not after being on the receiving end of it.”

Izzy sits up straight, all business. “Tell me more about that. Who was judging you, and why?”

“My family; well, my mother and aunt in particular.” I take a deep breath. “In my senior year at high school, I tried to commit suicide.”

Izzy does a pretty good job of covering her emotions, and manages to ask her next question in an impressively calm voice. “And what was it that led you to do that?”

“I was being bullied, mostly because of my religion and because I was such a ‘good girl’. It all came to a head after I stupidly went to this party. I was careful to only have one small drink, but I woke up the next day on the floor outside my room, with very little memory of what had happened in-between. And there was this video of me on the Internet, making out with half the guys at the party.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Angry… scared… depressed. The mean girls were teasing me mercilessly, I had some pretty horrible letters from my family, and then a girl was shot dead in one of the school bathrooms. Only one of my friends really tried to help me, but she had her own problems to deal with, and it was too little, too late. Eventually, I decided that I just wanted to end it all.”

“So, why didn’t you?”

“The truth came out. I was up on the roof of the dorm building, working up the nerve to jump off, when my friend Max came and told me that what happened the night of that party wasn’t my fault, that I’d been drugged and then abducted, and that the men who’d done it had been arrested.”

“That’s awful!” Izzy exclaims. Then, recovering, “I’m sorry. How did that news affect you?”

“It made me feel better and worse at the same time. Less depressed, but more angry. Also, lucky to be alive – Max told me that one of the girls they abducted had died from an overdose of the drugs they used on her.”

“So, no more suicidal thoughts after that?”

I shake my head. “No, just some mildly murderous ones, and the targets of those are safely locked away. So, your turn.”

Izzy nods. “Okay. I work as an escort.”

My eyebrows shoot up, and I struggle to keep the stammer out of my voice. “You mean… you have sex with guys for money?”

“Not just guys. And it’s not all about the sex. I mean, most of the time, yes, but sometimes it’s just a date – and sometimes it’s more like therapy.”

“How is it like therapy?”

“Sometimes, when a guy is having problems in his relationship – nothing going on in the bedroom at home, usually – he decides that having sex with escort is going to make him feel better somehow. Except it turns out that actually he just wants someone to talk to and, hey, I can be that person. Of course, sometimes they still want sex afterwards because, y’know, men, but not always.”

“How did you get into… escorting in the first place?”

“It was my roommate’s idea. She’d already been doing it for a while, so when I was struggling to make rent, she suggested it as a way to make a quick buck.” Izzy shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong about that.”

“Does it make you feel exploited, or degraded?”

“No. This isn’t something I was forced to do it, I could have just got a job as a waitress or whatever. I pick my clients, I decide when I work, and how often; I set my rates, and what I do and don’t do. I’m in control.” She sighs. “I know that’s not the case for every woman in the sex industry – there are abusive pimps and outright enslavement; and that’s terrible, but it’s not me. Anyway, your turn again. Tell me about your sex life – or lack thereof.”

I blush. “Well, I was president of the abstinence club in high school, a firm believer in ‘no sex outside of heterosexual marriage’.” I give Izzy a small smile. “I’ve mellowed a little since then; I’ve seen what rigid, judgmental beliefs can do.” I think back to what Max and I had done in bed a couple of nights ago. “Believe me, I’m _much_ happier for relaxing that stance.”

Izzy grins broadly. “Given up on the ‘before marriage’ part, have you?”

“The ‘heterosexual’ part too,” I admit.

Somehow, Izzy’s grin grows even wider. “Good for you. So, is it serious?”

I nod. “We’ve been living together for a couple of years, but it’s only in the last month or so that things have got so… physical.”

“Was she your first?”

“Yes! And I hope she’ll be my last.”

“Awww! That’s so sweet!”

I blush again. “Anyway, your turn. Are you seeing someone – other than professionally?”

Izzy gives me a rueful laugh. “That’s a far more complicated question than you could imagine. I am, I guess you could say dating, a guy. I’m also seeing a woman. And they’re both married. To each other.”

I’m momentarily dumbstruck, and it takes me a few seconds to find a question. “Do they know?”

“Yeah. He was one of those therapy guys, actually; we’d almost got to the part where he fucks me anyway, when the wife called, and he grew a conscience. Turns out he told her what he’d done – or not done – because the next day _she_ calls me up for a date and, well, things go a bit further than they did with him. Then, before I knew it, they wanted an exclusive ‘business arrangement’, and then maybe it wasn’t just business any more…”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Mostly.” She looks at me plaintively. “It’s just… _complicated_. I mean, I really like both of them, and I want this crazy poly thing we have to work out, but what if it doesn’t? They’ve been married for years, and I’m this interloper. What if I can never fully become part of that? What if it doesn’t work out and not only am I miserable, but I’m the reason their marriage collapses?”

Izzy is starting to get a slightly wild-eyed look, so I decide to try and jolt her out of it. “What you need to do,” I tell her, “is to pray to God for wisdom.” She just stares at me for a few moments, before we both crack up. “Seriously, though, if you care about them, and this makes you happy, then you just need to do what you can to make it work. Sorry I can’t offer more, but I don’t really have much relationship experience to draw on…”

“Thanks, it actually means a lot to me that you tried. So, yeah, there’s my big secret. Bet you can’t top that!”

I think for a moment. I do have a secret that’s been eating away at me, but it isn’t mine to share. I just… really need to talk to _someone_ about it, and maybe the professor’s threats have given me an opportunity to safely do that. I make my decision, take a deep breath, and just blurt it out. “My girlfriend’s the Portland Ninja.”

Izzy simply stares at me for a few seconds. “Seriously?” I nod. “Well, I guess that’s the winning confession. So, what’s it like to date a super-hero?”

“Terrifying. Every time she puts on that costume, I have no idea if she’s coming back. I’m _so proud_ of her, of the lives she’s saved, and it’s not like I want her to stop that, but I worry that one day, instead of getting a call from Max asking me to pick her up, I’m going to get a call from a hospital, or the police…”

Izzy reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no point in constantly worrying yourself about worst-case scenarios.”

I manage a small smile. “I know, I know.” Except, that’s when my phone rings, and it’s not a number I recognize.

* * *

When I put my phone down, Izzy is looking at me like she’s just seen a ghost. “What is it?” she asks, tentatively.

“That was…” I swallow. “That was the Emanuel Hospital. There was a fire at the Hamilton school.” I look at her, tears in my eyes, “Max is one of the victims they brought in. She’s unconscious, and…”

“Oh, Kate, I’m so sorry! Wait, did you say the Hamilton? That’s where Jack works…” She helps me to my feet. “Come on, we need to get over there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sorry, did I not mention that I wasn’t actually going to resolve the cliff-hanger? My bad… _*cackles evilly*_


	4. Chapter 4

The drive to the hospital is a bit of a blur, but I do notice that Izzy is clutching tightly to the passenger seat when I pull into a parking bay; I’m guessing I wasn’t my usual cautious self who drives the Jag like it’s a minivan. “Come on,” I tell her as I get out.

“Yeah, right,” she says, releasing her death grip. We head into the hospital building to find that there’s already a queue of concerned friends and relatives at the reception desk. I stand there, tapping my foot impatiently. After a moment, Izzy spots someone. “Jack?”

A guy turns and comes over to us, looking slightly puzzled. “Izzy? What are you doing here?”

“We heard about the fire, and wanted to check if you were okay. What happened?”

“There was some sort of explosion, and that started the fire,” he told her. “Thankfully, all the kids got out; some smoke inhalation, a few minor injuries, but nothing worse.” He glances meaningfully at me.

“Oh, right,” says Izzy. “Jack, this is my friend Kate. She got a call from the hospital about her girlfriend.”

He eyes me dubiously. “Was she a student, because I have a list…”

“No,” I tell him, not wanting to be thought a cradle-snatcher. Izzy, realizing she’s dropped me in it, gives me an apologetic look. “She… uh… works with the fire department.” That’s both true and misleading; not too bad for the spur of the moment.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry. I hope she’s okay.” He turns back to Izzy. “Look, I need to get back to my students…” 

“Of course, go, I’ll see you later.”

“You can go too,” I tell her, “now you know that your… boyfriend? is okay.”

“Nah,” she says, “you look like you could use the company.”

I manage a small smile. “Yeah, I really could. Thanks, Izzy.”

A few moments later, we reach the front of the queue, and a receptionist calls me forward. I give him Max’s name, and he directs me to a room on the third floor. While we’re waiting for the lift, Izzy gives me her phone number. “In case you need someone to talk to later,” she explains, “I get that once we find Max’s room your focus in going to be a hundred percent on her. I’m happy to stay if that’s what you want, but if you’d rather be alone with her just say.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” I admit as the doors open in front of us. We ride up in silence, and then hurry down a corridor to the room where Max should be. She comes into view through a window; there’s a cast on her left forearm, and her face and upper arms are covered with cuts and bruises, but she’s alive, and there’s no obvious sign of truly serious injuries. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off me.

“Who’s that?” asks Izzy, and I’m slightly baffled until I see that Max’s right hand is in someone else’s. A striking Arabic woman in what I assume to be fire-fighting gear. Suddenly I’m less certain that pushing Max into going on that ‘date’ the previous night had been a good idea.

“I think I should go in there alone.”

Izzy accepts my dodging of her question without comment. “No problem. I’ll see you when you’re back in school. In the mean time, call me.”

“I’ll do that.” Impulsively, I give her a brief hug. “Thanks. For being a friend when I needed one.”

“No problem,” she tells me, then heads back towards the lift. I take a deep breath, and open the door.

The figure inside quickly, almost guiltily, removes her hand from Max’s and stands up. “Hi, you must be Kate.”

“And you must be Yasmin. How is she?”

“A broken arm, concussion, and a whole catalog of cuts and bruises. The doctors say that the arm will take a couple of months or so to fully heal, but other than that she’ll be back to normal in a few days.”

I let out a sigh of relief and feel my shoulders relax. Yasmin moves aside, allowing me to get to Max. I lean over to place a light kiss on her lips, then take her hand, and the chair Yasmin vacated. “Thankyou for watching over Max, I’m glad she wasn’t here alone.”

“The Chief remembered that we knew each other from that fire at the orphanage, so he let me ride in with her – and to make sure that her secret identity was protected. Besides, after we found Max I was so scared for her…” She hesitates, and I remember the flash of abject terror I felt when I took that phone call. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… I should go.”

Tempting as that is, I push aside the flutters of jealousy I’m feeling. “No, please stay. It’s obvious that you care about her too.”

She sits in the other chair. “Thanks, Kate. I promise, you have nothing to worry about from me. I’ve had more than one partner leave me for another woman, and there’s no way I would wish that feeling on anyone. Besides, it’s obvious that Max is head-over-heels for you; I couldn’t tempt her away even if I wanted to.”

“I appreciate your candor, and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” I tell her. Just the thought of Max leaving gives me a sick feeling in my stomach. To have had that happen to her multiple times… “Is there anything you can tell me about what happened to Max.”

Yasmin’s face twists. “I’m sorry, Kate, it’s all my fault. I should never have left her down there, but I had to get the student we’d found out, and…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Yasmin,” I tell her in soothing tones. “I know how stubborn Max can be. Why don’t you start at the beginning,” I suggest.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. I ran into Max just as I was finishing my sweep. I sent my partner out with a student, and we checked the last corridor together. We heard someone calling from a basement door, and found one of the students down there handcuffed to a pipe.” Okay, this just took a sinister turn. “Max reminded me that my job was to get him safely out, and insisted on staying to check the rest of the basement, even though we were pretty sure it was another trap.” _Another_ trap? I don’t like the sound of that at all, but I let Yasmin finish.

“I went back for Max as soon as I’d handed him off, but the second explosion hit before I could reach her. It took about an hour for us to find her; she was at the bottom of another stairwell. There was a solid metal door that protected her from the worst of the blast, I can only assume that she had just enough of her funky time power left to make it in there before the ceiling of the main basement came down. Anyway, I cut the ninja outfit off her on the way to the ambulance. There shouldn’t be anyone else who’s seen her face _and_ seen her in costume.”

“Thanks, Yasmin, I’m glad Max had someone who cares looking out for her today.” Then, casually, “you said something about another trap?”

“Yeah, like at the orphanage.” She must spot the surprise on my face. “Wait… Max didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I ask, in a voice that I hope dissuades argument.

Yasmin glances at Max and sighs. “The orphanage fire was no accident. It was deliberately set to lure in the Portland Ninja. We found this room in the basement where this guy had set up a computer with a webcam, and a door rigged to slam shut behind us. If it wasn’t for Max’s rewind power, I’d have been trapped in there when the building came down. The lunatic blames Max for the death of his son because he was one of the people she couldn’t save at some construction site accident.”

“And his answer to that is to put the lives of children at risk?” I ask, both furious and incredulous.

“I know,” she responds, clearly disgusted. “After we’re found the kid locked up in the basement today, we both suspected it was the same guy again, but until Max wakes up and tells us more, we won’t know for sure.” Then, tentatively, she asks, “how are you coping?”

“This is what I’ve been terrified of ever since I found out what Max was doing, but now it’s happened, and she’s going to be okay, so… I’m not sure how I feel about that. The idea that there’s some madman out there deliberately targeting her, though, that _really_ scares me.”

Yasmin reaches out and takes my hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she tells me, “there’s already a team looking for this bastard, and if today _does_ turn out to be him, you can be sure that the feds will be joining that party. He wont be able to hide for long.”

I know she’s just trying to reassure me, but it does actually work. “Thanks,” I say, and we lapse into silence for a moment before I add, “I’m think going to say a few prayers.”

“Um… would it be okay if I join you?”

“I’d welcome it. We may call God by different names, but our faiths are equally real.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she mutters, “mine’s been pretty lapsed since I left home.” I decide that doesn’t need a response, close my eyes, and begin to pray.

* * *

I wake up in pain, but at least I wake up. I feel like every inch of my body has been thoroughly beaten, my head aches, and my left arm feels like it’s been crushed, but I’m alive. Slowly, I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. Unsurprisingly, I’m in a hospital room. More surprising is the sight of Kate and Yasmin holding hands, heads bowed. Kate’s other hand is holding tightly to mine, and I squeeze it. Instantly, her head snaps up to look at me.

“Max! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Like I went ten rounds with the entire roster of the WWE.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” She leans over and gently kisses me. “The docs say you’re going to be back to normal in a few days – well, except for the arm; that’s going to take a little longer.” She kisses me again, and I smile up at her.

“I feel better already. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She shrugs at me. “I knew what I was signing up for, Max. No mater how careful you are, there was always the chance of something like this happening. I was with a friend when I found out; she came to the hospital with me. And Yasmin was already here when I got to your room, so I’ve not been alone since I heard.”

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t have to go through this by yourself. Any news on when I can go home?”

It’s Yasmin who answers. “The doctor I talked to said that because of the concussion, they’ll want to keep you home overnight for observation. I guess that means you’ll probably be able to go home tomorrow. So… what happened down there?” Now she’s put me on the spot; I haven’t told Kate about the trap in the orphanage, and I’m not sure I want to share that someone’s trying to kill me, let alone that he almost succeeded.

“Yes, Max,” says Kate, in a suddenly sharp tone, “was it _another_ trap?” Yasmin gives me an apologetic look, although I’ve got no-one to blame but myself.

“I’m sorry, Katie, I should have told you. I didn’t want to worry you, but clearly that’s backfired. I should have trusted you; it’s not like I don’t know you’re stronger than you look.”

“Yes, you should have told me and yes, you should have trusted me.” Her expression softens. “I know that in your misguided way you were looking after me, so I forgive you Max. Just… don’t do it again.”

“Thank-you. I’ll try my best not to repeat that mistake. And, yes, it was another trap. The bastard almost got me this time, and he certainly saw me. I tried to keep him talking, but I’m afraid he didn’t give anything away other than the fact that he’s a psychopath… or maybe a sociopath, I can never remember the difference. Either way, we already knew that. When he said his last words I tried to rewind, but I’d obviously pushed myself too far, and the best I could do was freeze time – and that’s not happened since… since a Tuesday afternoon in the rain at Blackwell.”

Kate’s eyes widen, and her hand clutches at mine. “I’ve not really thought about that day for a long time.”

“Neither have I; it’s not something I want to remember.” Yasmin looks at me, clearly itching to know what we’re talking about, but thankfully having the decency not to ask. “Anyway, I managed to hold it together for long enough to get behind some sort of door, and… well, that’s the last thing I recall.”

“That door saved your life,” Yasmin tells me, “it got blown off its hinges alright, but it ended up wedged over you, like your own personal blast shelter. You were actually at the bottom of another staircase – lucky for you, or it might have been hours before we managed to dig you out.”

“Is my cover totally blown?” 

“Actually, no. The Chief and I took care of that. You’re going to need a new Ninja outfit though – if you’re planning on keeping the mantle once your arm’s healed up.”

I look at Kate; I really don’t want to put her through this – or worse – again. “I’ll have to think about that. Right now, I’m wishing I had Wolverine’s superpower. A little bit of healing factor would go down nicely right now.” Then, glancing at my arm, “or just plain adamantium-reinforced bones, for that matter.”

“Yeah, but then I’d just be terrified about those claws coming out at an… inopportune moment,” says Kate, all poker-faced. It takes me a moment to catch on before I start sniggering, and Yasmin gives her a thoughtful look; someone else revising their opinion after passing judgement based on Kate’s crucifix necklace, perhaps.

“Look, I should probably get back to the station, and besides, I’m sure you two could use a little privacy. I’ll give you a call if I hear anything about the investigation.”

“Thanks for digging me out of a hole,” I tell her. “Both literally and metaphorically, I guess.”

“Yes,” says Kate as they stand up, “thank-you for getting Max safely back to me.” Then she surprises Yasmin with a brief hug. “I hope we’ll see you again soon.”

“I’d like that,” she replies with a smile. “Until then…”

As the door closed behind her, I give Kate an appraising look. “So, maybe you weren’t kidding about that threesome after all,” I tease.

She shakes her head. “Izzy may be into that sort of thing, but I don’t think it’s for me – so no getting ideas, missy.” She wags a finger at me admonishingly, but I can see the smile in her eyes as she sits back down and takes my hand again.

“Who’s Izzy?” I ask, “I’m not sure I’ve heard you mention that name before.”

“She’s another student in my psych class; we got thrown together for an assignment today, but I didn’t really know her before that. She’s the one who was with me when I got the call from the hospital, and made sure that I got to you okay.”

“Sounds like she’s good people. I’m glad you had someone with you.”

“Yeah, well, her… boyfriend works at the school, so she did have an ulterior motive for wanting to come to the hospital; she did stay with me after she saw him though, so… I’m hoping maybe I’ve made a friend.”

“Good. I’m guessing you could use someone else to talk to, same as me. And if she has a _boy_ friend, then I’m guessing Izzy didn’t start by hitting on you the way Yasmin did with me.”

“No, but I might have caught her checking me out once or twice.”

“Well, I can’t blame her for that. So she pinged your gaydar, then?”

“She didn’t have to, she was pretty upfront about being bisexual. And the fact that she also has a girlfriend. Who’s married to her boyfriend.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “Well, good for her, then.”

“Look,” says Kate, suddenly nervous, “there’s something I need to tell you. The psych assignment we were doing was a trust exercise to do with keeping patient confidentiality – pretty much under threat of expulsion – and…” Kate goes white as a sheet. “I broke the rules! I told you something that was supposed to be private! No, no, no…”

I can feel her panicking, so I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay, Katie, I’m pretty sure there’s an expectation that you’re not going to keep everything from your partner, and I swear to you that I won’t tell a soul. I’ll even do my best to pretend I don’t know if I ever meet Izzy. You’re not going to be in any trouble.”

“I’m not sure there is an exception for that, but… I’m sorry, Max. Thanks for calming me down.” She leans over and kisses me. I reach up to put my hand behind her head, and instead end up hitting her with the cast on my arm.

“Ow!” she says, sitting back and rubbing her head in an exaggerated fashion.

“Sorry, I guess it’s going to take me a while to get used to this thing.”

“I’ll survive,” she says with a smile.

“So… what was it you needed to tell me?”

“Oh, right. I… uh… may have mentioned to Izzy that my girlfriend is the Portland Ninja.”

I take a moment to digest that. “This was under the rules of your psych thing, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about this for a long time, but there was never anyone I felt I could trust enough. In my mind, this assignment became a magical opportunity to do that, but… it’s not my secret to share. I’m sorry, Max.”

“Don’t be. This isn’t just _my_ secret, it’s _our_ secret. And the way you practically pushed me out on a date with Yasmin so I’d have someone to talk to? Same thing applies here. I get that what I do is a big added stress in your life, and you need to be able to talk about that to someone other than me. I know you wouldn’t have told Izzy unless on some subconscious level you felt you could trust her, and I trust your judgment.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You may not be the one in the mask, but in a way it’s your life too.”

“Okay, thanks for understanding.”

“And hey, we should totally invite Izzy and Yasmin around for dinner, have a Ninja coming out party!”

Kate nods slowly. “That could be fun.”

Just then, a nurse bustles to take my temperature and blood pressure, and give me a bunch of pills. I ask about my condition, but she doesn’t really have much to add to what Yasmin already told us. I’ll probably be able to go hoe tomorrow, but I’ll definitely see a doctor before I’m discharged. By the time that’s all done, I’m feeling pretty tired – or maybe it’s the meds kicking in.

“I think I’m probably going to go back to sleep,” I tell Kate.

“Okay, sweetie, you do that.” She gives me a kiss before telling me, “I’ll stay until they kick me out, and I’ll be back tomorrow as early as they let me in.”

“Thanks, Katie. Just, make sure you get some rest too.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Max. Sweet dreams.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, almost three months since I updated this; I hadn’t realised it had been so long. Hopefully the next chapter should come rather more quickly.

_The storm rages in the background as we share our first – and last – kiss. ‘Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me.’ Nathan rants in the girls’ bathroom. A gunshot._

“Chloe!” I lurch awake, panting heavily.

On the chair beside me, Kate’s head snaps up. “Bad dream, sweetie?” I nod jerkily, and she reaches out to tenderly stroke my face. “I’m sorry,” she tells me, before leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. “Did you manage to get some sleep though?”

“I’m not sure. Is it tomorrow yet?”

“I guess that’s a yes,” Kate tells me with a smile. “It’s about half nine in the morning.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That means I slept for about fifteen hours straight then. Probably why I feel so much better than yesterday; I could have done without the nightmare, though.” I shudder. There was something different about this dream: everything in it was something that had really happened, but somehow it felt more like… a premonition.

The doctor coming in saves me from pondering that any further. After a few simple checks and a bunch of questions, he gives me a stack of forms to fill out, then pronounces me free to go. Less than an hour later, we’re safely back in our apartment.

“You should head to school,” I tell Kate. “No point missing any more classes.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, clearly reluctant to leave me alone. “I was going to stay and look after you…”

“Much as I’d love to have you play Nurse Katie and tend to my every whim, there really isn’t much for you to do. I was planning to curl up with my laptop and binge something on Netflix until I need to sleep again.”

Kate considers this. “Okay, fine. I’m going to fix you some lunch before I go, though; that way you don’t have to worry about trying to do it with one hand.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, accepting the compromise with good grace. “I really appreciate that.”

* * *

Over the next couple of days, I slowly adapt to doing everything right-handed, although I manage to bash Kate with my cast again before I get the hang of things. I decide to make the most of my enforced time off from Ninja duties to do some more photography – with everything that’s been going on, I’ve let my passion fall by the wayside – and Kate is an enthusiastic supporter.

On the third day, everything comes crashing down. Along with a couple of bags of groceries, Kate brings the post up with her when she gets home from school. There’s only one thing for me, but it’s from the hospital and the number at the bottom of the invoice makes my eyes water. “What is it, sweetie?” Kate asks at once. I wordlessly pass her the bill, and her eyes widen as she reads it.

“How the hell am I ever going to pay this off?” Even with Obamacare, there was no way my meagre freelancing income had been to get me any sort of medical cover, so I was on the hook for the full amount. I have some savings from the show I did, but they won’t even cover a quarter of it…

Kate gently rests a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie, we’ll figure something out. I can sell the Jag if needs be.”

That shakes me out of my funk. “What? No! That’s yours; I’m not having you give it up to solve _my_ problem.”

“I thought we were a team, Max.” She can’t quite keep the hurt out of her voice. “I thought we agreed that _we_ were going to handle whatever came our way, _together_.”

I last about half a second before throwing myself into her arms. “I’m sorry Kate, I didn’t mean… I love you so much.”

She simply holds me, gently stoking my hair. “I know, sweetie. I love you too.”

Eventually, I manage a smile. “See, this is why all the Marvel heroes join the Avengers: membership comes with primo healthcare.”

Kate laughs. “Do I have to remind you – again – that they’re fictional?”

“That won’t be necessary. And I’m sorry about what I said before. We’ll figure this out together, somehow.”

“Yes, we will.” She looks me up and down, taking in the fact that I’m still in my pajamas. “You should have a shower and get dressed. We’ve got company this evening.”

“We have?” I ask, confused.

“Yes. Remember what you said about inviting Izzy and Yasmin over?”

“That’s tonight? Did I know about this?”

“It’s possible that I may have forgotten to mention it,” she says blandly. Forgot, my ass. Kate knows I’m not fond of surprises, but today this is just what I need.

“Thanks, Katie.” I give her a quick kiss, before heading for the bathroom.

* * *

An hour or so later, we’re both showered and changed, and Kate’s busy in the kitchen making up a batch of her delicious risotto. My mouth waters at the smell of roasting mushrooms coming from the oven. My job is to stay out of the way, and be ready to answer the door. For whatever reason, while we both enjoy cooking, it’s something we very rarely do together – we just end up getting in each other’s way. The intercom rings, and I buzz up the first of our guests; less than thirty seconds later, it rings again and I quickly hit the button before hurrying to answer a knock at the apartment door.

“Hi, you must be Izzy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to see you awake this time, Max,” she replies with a smile. “How’s the arm?”

“It itches!” I tell her, rubbing futilely at the cast. “I’ve only had this thing for a few days, and already I can’t wait to get it off.”

She makes a face. “I hope it eases up; I don’t envy you the next few weeks.”

“Anyway, come on in,” I say, stepping back. “Go say hi to the chef.” She heads over to greet Kate, and I see someone else coming up the stairwell. “Hi, Yasmin,” I call to her.

“Hey, Max,” she says as she comes over and we share a brief hug. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better, but then the most difficult thing I’ve done the past few days is decide what show to watch next.”

Yasmin laughs as she comes inside and I shut the door. “Kate looking after you, I take it?”

“She always has.”

“Good. I’m glad you have someone like her.”

“Well, I hope you’re hungry, because she’s been busy in the kitchen, too.” I lead her over to where Izzy’s been roped in to help set the table, and make introductions. That done, I head over to where Kate’s carefully chopping a large pile of steaming mushrooms. “Anything I can do to help?”

She looks up at me with a smile. “No, I’m about done. Why don’t you pour the wine, I’ll bring the food over in a couple of minutes.”

Sure enough, I’ve barely had time to fill the others in on my final prognosis – and the depressing size of my medical bill – when she brings over a large pan and sets it on the table, along with a serving spoon. We all tuck in and spend the next half hour eating, drinking, talking, and laughing. It’s only after we’ve finished out desserts that the conversation turns more serious again.

“I heard from my friend in the police this afternoon,” begins Yasmin. “The feds traced the explosives used at the school to the same construction company that ran the building site where our psychotic friend’s son died. They’re taking our story about his vendetta seriously now, because they’re worried he’s going to try again.”

“Wait, what?” asks Izzy, and I explain about the two attempts to kill me. “So, let me get this straight: you’re a superhero, and there’s an honest-to-Thor super-villain out to get you. And I thought my life was strange…”

“I’m not sure there’s anything ‘super’ about the villain, but that’s about the size of it,” I confirm.

“How do you deal with something like that?” she asks.

It’s Kate who answers. “I’m not sure you ever really can. A few years back, a freak storm devastated the town where we were at school, killing a bunch of our friends and classmates.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “We’re still dealing with the after-effects of that.”

We sit in silence for a few moments, none of us really sure what to say after that. Eventually, it’s Yasmin who continues, “anyway, the police have released a statement, saying that the Portland Ninja was badly injured in the second explosion. That may be an exaggeration, but they’re hoping it will deter our super-villain from setting any more traps for the time being.”

“Good. I don’t want anyone else being put in danger because of me.” Kate squeezes my hand and gives me a stern look. “Sorry,” I tell her softly.

“That gives me an idea,” says Izzy. “If your injury is public knowledge, why not use that to your advantage? You could set up a GoFundMe or something to raise money for your medical bills. I’m not sure if there’s a way of doing it anonymously, though.”

“Maybe not,” says Yasmin, “but if we did it via Fire and Rescue, there’d be no need to reveal your identity, and we could still vouch for you. People would be much more likely to trust it that way, too. I’ll need to talk to my chief, but I think he’ll go for it.”

“We’ll need to publicize it, though,” adds Kate. “Would you be willing to give an interview? I’m sure Max could set something up with one of the reporters at the paper where she freelances.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to.” She turns to me. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m incredibly lucky to have three such awesome ladies looking out for me.”

“Hey, every superhero needs her sidekicks, even if they don’t have silly names like Koi Boi or Chipmunk Hunk…”

“Oh I think all three of you are my very own Nancies.”

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Izzy asks Kate.

“Comic books, I think,” she answers.

“ _The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl_ ,” I confirm; Kate just rolls her eyes. I’ve gotten her to watch all the Marvel movies, but that’s as far as it goes. “Seriously, thank-you, all of you.” I raise my glass in salute.

Over the next couple of hours, Yasmin and Izzy persuade me to tell a bunch of anecdotes about my time as the Portland Ninja, but thankfully they don’t press me for my origin story. No matter how much time passes, it’s still too painful for me to want to think, much less talk about.

Some time after eleven, our guests take their leave and I immediately pull Kate into my arms. “Thanks for doing this, Katie, I had no idea how much I needed it. And knowing there’s a possible way out from under that hospital bill is a huge weight off my mind.”

Kate smiles at me. “C’mon, let’s get to bed.”

“What about…” I gesture at the large pile of dirty dishes by the sink.

“That can wait until tomorrow. I have more important needs right now.”

I’m not about to argue with that.

* * *

The following Wednesday, I’m escorting Yasmin into the newspaper offices to meet with one of the reporters. She was eager to take the story, so it seems that I’ll be winning some points at work out of this as well. Berlina greets us, and waves Yasmin into the chair in front of her desk; I take another one in the corner of her office. She starts with easy questions about Yasmin’s background, how long Fire and Rescue have been aware of the Ninja, and so on. Being a reporter, of course she can’t resist throwing in a curveball.

“How would you respond to suggestions that the Portland Ninja is nothing more than a vigilante?”

Yasmin shrugs. “A vigilante is someone who takes the law into their own hands. I think of the Ninja as a rescue worker, rather than a crimefighter – and that’s why you’re talking to me rather than someone from the police department. Sure, she has been seen at a few crime scenes, but as far as I’m aware, she was always helping victims rather than apprehending criminals.” It’s the truth; my rewind power doesn’t really lend itself to taking on crooks directly, so it’s never something I’ve risked.

“You’ve repeatedly referred to the Ninja as ‘she’ or ‘her’. Can you confirm that she is indeed a woman?”

“Yup, it seems that Portland is rather more progressive than Hollywood.” That earns her a laugh.

“So, tell me about how you met the Ninja.”

“I’d seen her a couple of times before, but the first time we interacted was at the orphanage fire a few weeks ago. I’d been trapped in the basement by some falling debris; she rescued me, and the two of us barely made it out before the building came down.”

“Oh, yes!” Berlina says excitedly, “I remember seeing some cellphone footage of that on YouTube. Very dramatic!” I wince inwardly; ‘undignified’ is probably a better word for it.

“Indeed. I was fortunate enough to spend some time with her afterwards, and the person I got to know is no Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark; she’s living paycheck-to-paycheck because rather than exploiting her skills to make a pile of money, she’s using them to help others. She’s the bravest, most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

“Unfortunately, that comes at a price. More recently, it was the Ninja who got trapped in a basement with a building collapsing above her. Thankfully, she’s expected to make a full recovery, but she will be out of action for a few weeks at least. Unfortunately, freelance superhero work doesn’t come with a benefits package, and that’s why I’m here today.”

“A bunch of us at Portland Fire and Rescue are setting up a fund to support the Ninja by covering the medical expenses for her injuries, and we’d like to ask your readers for donations. She’s willing to risk her life to save strangers; she shouldn’t have to risk bankruptcy as well.” It’s a good thing Berlina isn’t looking my way, because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing right now.

* * *

The day after the story runs in the paper, it gets picked up by the local TV news. The day after that, I get a call from Yasmin telling me that there’s already enough money in the fund to cover the hospital bill for my broken arm. I thank her profusely, feeling like a massive weight has been taken off my shoulders.

* * *

It’s Thursday evening, and there’s a buzz from the door system. I’m busy fixing dinner – having finally got the hang of cooking one handed – so it’s Kate who answer it and, a couple of minutes later, lets Yasmin into the apartment. “Hi, this is an unexpected pleasure. What brings you out here?”

“I need to talk to you guys, and this isn’t something I wanted to tell you over the phone.”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner, then?” Kate invited her.

“I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“It’s no imposition, and besides, Max always makes far too much.”

“Hey!” I interject. “That’s an exaggeration; and besides, you enjoy having leftovers for lunch as much as I do.” Then, remembering my manners, “hi, Yasmin. Please stay, I’m just about ready to serve up.”

A few minutes later, we’re sat around the table, tucking into the food. “So,” begins Kate, “what is it you needed to tell us?”

“I was at the hospital today, paying off the bill for your arm, and the administrator gave me some disturbing news. Somebody hacked into their systems last night.” The shocked look on Kate’s face mirrors the one on mine, but neither of us says anything. “Whoever it was didn’t manage to get into the patient records, but they _did_ manage to download all the CCTV footage from the day we took you in.”

I have a bad feeling about that. “Why would someone do that?” asks Kate.

Suddenly, I put it together. “That damn YouTube video,” I say.

“That’s my guess as well,” says Yasmin with a nod. Seeing Kate’s confused expression, she continues, “from that newspaper article, it’s clear that Max and I were the last two people out of the orphanage before it collapsed. Unfortunately, someone was filming it on their phone and uploaded the footage to the Internet. There’s no way of identifying Max, of course, but there’s a pretty clear shot of me.”

“I’m pretty sure that our mad bomber caught me on camera at the school,” I add, “so he’s probably guessed that that’s when the Ninja got injured. Add the CCTV footage to those two pieces of information…”

Comprehension dawns on Kate’s face. “He can look for Yasmin on the hospital videos, and see that she’s with Max.”

“Exactly,” says Yasmin. “I’ve already passed this along to the FBI task force that’s looking for him, they may be able to do some computer wizardry to track him down. Either way, it might not be a bad idea for you guys to leave town for a while, just until they catch this nut-job.”

Kate nods thoughtfully. “It’s spring break next week, so I’m already off school. We don’t have anything planned, but that’s easily changed.”

“We could head up to Seattle and stay with my folks for a few days. I’m sure they’d love to spend more time with Kate… and they’d probably be happy to see me too.” Kate elbows me, but doesn’t argue with my assessment. My parents – rightly – give Kate most of the credit for my recovery, and practically worship the ground she walks on.

“I don’t have any classes tomorrow, so we can head off in the morning. It’ll be fun – first road trip with my girlfriend!”

“It’s only a three or four hour drive!” I tell her with a laugh.

“Well, that’s how boring my life was before you,” she says, leaning over to kiss me.

“You two really are disgustingly cute together,” Yasmin tells us with a grin.

“Just wait until you find _your_ Miss Right,” I tell her, mock threateningly.

“Hmmm. On a completely unrelated note, I never did establish Izzy’s relationship status…”

Kate and I share a look. “It’s complicated,” we tell her in unison.

* * *

I lie back on the couch, waiting for Kate, dozing off and jerking awake. My sleep last night was disturbed by bad dreams; not full-on screaming nightmares, so at least Kate got her rest, but enough that I don’t feel like I’ve slept at all. Quite how I managed to be the first one dressed, packed, and ready to go is a bit of a mystery, but Kate shooed me out here while she finished up.

I force myself upright as the bedroom door opens. My jaw drops as Kate emerges in a beautiful cream silk blouse and short navy skirt that I’ve never seen before. She’s also got more make up on than I ever remember her using; eyes accentuated, mouth a deep red. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever set eyes on.

Awkwardly, I get up and take a step towards her. Clearly enjoying the effect she’s having, Kate stretches languidly in the doorway, then reaches out to me and sings, “ _grab your passport and my hand, I can make the bad guys good for a weekend…_ ” I’m just about ready to melt into a puddle of lust on the floor, but choose the more practical response of taking Kate’s hand, and pulling her into a searing kiss.

“God, you look incredible,” I tell her when we finally come up for air.

“You can call me Kate,” she says smugly, and it takes me a moment to realize that she’s making a joke – and a mildly blasphemous one at that.

“As beautiful as those clothes are, right now I just want to rip them off you,” I tell her.

“Please don’t; that would be a terrible waste!”

“How about I carefully remove them instead?”

“But we’re supposed to be leaving,” she protests, perhaps a little unconvincingly.

“A short delay wouldn’t hurt,” I suggest, sliding my good hand down, and then underneath her skirt, “it’s not like we have a plane to catch.”

“I suppose…” When my finger grazes her panties and finds them damp, I know I’ve won the argument – although the gleam in Kate’s eye as she gasps makes me wonder if this was her plan all along.

* * *

I’m getting dressed again when my phone goes off. “Hi Yasmin, what’s up?”

“Are you guys on the your way?”

“Not yet, we… uh… got a little sidetracked.”

“You need to get out of there _right now_. This maniac knows where you live. The cops are on their way, but…”

“Got it, thanks.” I drop the call. “Katie, we need to go, now!”

She looks up at me. “What happened?”

“He knows where we are.” In less than a minute, we’ve finished dressing and headed out the door. I’m fumbling as I try to put my keys away one-handed, so it takes me a moment to register the presence of an unfamiliar figure on the stairwell, let alone that he’s pointing a gun at me.

Kate’s reactions are faster. “Max!” she screams, ramming into me and sending me flying headfirst into the wall. I slump down, feeling conscious slipping away from me. The last thing I see is a red flower blossoming over Kate’s heart as she takes the bullet that was meant for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

“Kate!” I scream, as I startle into wakefulness. I look around, confused; I’m on the couch, seemingly alone in our apartment. Before I have a chance to figure out what’s going on, the bedroom door bursts open and Kate dashes out, wild-eyed and skirtless, but her cream silk blouse unmarried by any bloodstains.

“Max? What the…”

I have my good arm around her in less than a heartbeat, sobbing brokenly. “Oh, Kate, thank God you’re okay. I thought I’d lost you…”

After a minute or so, she gently pushes me back. “Max, what happened?”

Remembering the call from Yasmin, I tell her, “there’s no time to explain. We need to leave, right now.”

Kate looks at me quizzically for a moment, before nodding. “Okay. I just need a sec to finish getting dressed.” I follow her into the bedroom, and grab our suitcase while she pulls on her skirt. A few minutes later we’re safely ensconced in Kate’s Jag, and once we’re on the road I start to breathe a little more easily.

“Max, you need to tell me what the hell is going on,” says Kate. The expletive, adorably mild as it might be, warns me not to mess around.

“The guy who’s trying to kill me? He knows where we live. We had to get out before he found us there.”

“Damn. Could he not have waited an hour or so? I had this whole routine worked out…”

“ _Grab your passport and my hand_? Yeah, that was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kate blushed prettily. “Did it work?” she asked, after a moment.

“If by that you mean, ‘did it lead to some utterly mind-blowing sex?’ then the answer is ‘hell, yes’.”

A pout forms on Kate’s lips. “It kinda sucks that I don’t remember that.” 

“Don’t worry, you totally earned an encore this evening.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she purrs. A moment later she shoots me a glance, and I see the suspicion in her eyes. “Wait…”

My phone rings before she can formulate a question. “We’re both safely away,” I answer it without preamble.

“How did you…” begins Yasmin, trailing off almost at once. “This isn’t the first time you’ve answered this call, is it?”

“No.”

“Do I want to know what happened the first time?”

My chest constricts and my pulse races. “No,” I manage, barely above a whisper.

“I’m so sorry…” I can tell from her voice that she guesses what might have happened. “Look, we’re going to catch this bastard. I’ll let you know once they’ve got him, and we can talk when you get back into town.”

“Thanks,” I tell her as I hang up the call.

A few moments later, Kate pulls off the road and brings the car to a stop. She turns to look at me, her expression deadly serious. “What aren’t you telling me, Max?”

I close my eyes and lean back, wishing there was some way I could avoid this conversation, but knowing there isn’t. “I saw you die,” I tell her, my voice devoid of all emotion. Kate’s only response is a sharp intake of breath, so I continue. “We didn’t leave the apartment until I got that call, and by then it was too late; he was waiting for us in the stairwell. I didn’t see him in time, but you…” I open my eyes and stare directly into hers. “You saved my life, Kate, even though it meant putting yourself between me and the gun. You’re a bigger fucking hero than I’ll ever be.”

“Sweetie, I… I don’t know what to say. I mean, obviously you rewound the whole thing, so you saved me right back…” she trails off, probably seeing the expression on my face. “Didn’t you?”

“That’s the thing, Katie: I hit my head when you knocked me out of the way. I blacked out right after he shot you, so I have no idea how things got fixed.” Suddenly, a thought occurs to me. “Wait, this has happened once before, the first time…” I take a deep breath. “The first time I saw Chloe get shot, I got snapped back to Jeffershit’s classroom a few minutes earlier; that’s how I found out about my rewind power.”

Kate reaches out and rests a comforting hand on my arm. “Well, whatever happened, we’re both safe.” After a moment, I manage a small nod. “What do you want to do now?”

“What we planned; get the hell out of dodge, and forget about all this bullshit for a week.”

She leans over and kisses me. “Sounds like a plan.” I force a smile, then lie back in my seat and allow my eyes to close. The moment I do, a single memory fills my mind. As I watch Kate being shot, over and over, I feel all the progress I’ve made over the past few years beginning to unravel. I try forcing myself to focus on the fact that, unlike Chloe, Kate is still alive.

It almost works.

* * *

We take a long break for lunch, so it’s early evening by the time we’ve reached Seattle and wound our way through the suburbs. I’m slightly apprehensive about turning up at my parents’ place unannounced. Last time I was here they made a point of reminding me that I was always welcome – a none-too-subtle reference to the infrequency of my visits, I suspected – but I have the feeling there was an implied desire for prior notice. Kate’s already out of the car, retrieving our case from the trunk, so I force myself to get out, walk up the short path to the front door, and knock on it.

Mom opens it a few moments later. “Max?”

“Surprise!” I tell her, although the silly pose I try to strike doesn’t quite work with one arm in a sling. Mom pulls me into a hug, crushing the cast between us.

“What happened to you?” she asks, looking down at my arm with concern.

“It’s… a long story.”

Thankfully she takes the hint. “Well, that can wait, then. Come on inside. It’s lovely to see you again as well, Kate.”

“Thanks, Mrs… Vanessa.” That earns her a smile.

“Ryan, we have guests!” calls Mom.

A moment later, Dad pops his head out of the kitchen, his eyes widening. “Max, Kate, what a wonderful surprise!” He hurries over to give me a hug, and Kate a peck on the cheek. “You’re in luck; I was already doing some bulk cooking, so you’re not going to go hungry. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.”

“Thanks, Dad. That should give us a chance to settle in and for Kate to admire my old room.”

“Well, you know where the linens are,” says Mom. Thankfully, she seems completely unfazed by our unexpected arrival. “I don’t suppose I need to make up the spare room,” she adds with a knowing smile.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I tell her, as Kate blushes. My bed here might be smaller than we’re used to, but at least it’s not a twin. Besides, having to snuggle a little closer together isn’t exactly going to be a hardship for us. I lead the way upstairs and open the door, waving Kate in ahead of me. The room looks very much like it did before I headed to Blackwell; those months I was here afterwards, I was in too much of a funk to think about changing anything. The walls are still plastered with posters of the bands and movies I though were cool when I was in my teens.

Kate puts down the case, and wanders over to my battered old desk. She picks up a framed photo of Chloe and me taken before I left Arcadia Bay. “You two were really cute kids,” she says, glancing at me with a smile, before studying the picture more closely. “We should take this back with us; you don’t have any pictures of Chloe, and someone who’s that important to you deserves a place in our home.” She says it matter-of-factly, without a hint of jealousy.

After almost losing her this morning, it’s too much. I pull Kate into my arms and hold her tightly. “I love you,” I whisper into her ear, “more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone.”

“I love you too,” Kate replies, squeezing me hard.

There’s a simple reason I don’t have any pictures of Chloe at home – they were too-painful reminders of what I lost. When Kate and I part, I take a deep breath and look at the picture. The memories come flooding back; the happiness, the sheer _joy_ of our time together. When the memories fade, that happiness remains, and for the first time, isn’t overwhelmed by sorrow.

And then the picture shifts.

“No!”

I almost drop the photo in shock, but I force myself to look at it again. The picture flickers.

“No, no, no…”

I carefully put it down, then open a drawer in my desk, taking out the single Polaroid that’s inside: a selfie, taken in the photography classroom at Blackwell. It, too, flickers and shifts in my hand.

“No, not now!”

Desperate to escape the tumult of emotions that have been unleashed inside me, I stuff the photo in my pocket and flee, heedless of Kate calling after me.

* * *

I call after Max again, but it’s clear she’s not coming back. I hurry down the stairs after her, just in time to see the back door slamming shut. Vanessa comes out of the kitchen, looking alarmed. “Kate? What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit, “she was looking at a picture of her and Chloe, and then she suddenly… freaked out. I don’t know why.”

I’m itching to go after her, but Vanessa starts towards the door first. She takes a couple of steps, and then stops. “I’m sorry. I forget that she’s not my little girl any more. She needs her girlfriend right now, not her mother.” I try to find the words to reassure her that Max will always need her mother, but somehow they escape me. Vanessa gives me a sad smile and a gentle push towards the door. “Go on.”

I hesitate for a moment, then walk outside. In the dim twilight, I can see Max pacing back and forth across the small yard, muttering to herself. I watch her for a few minutes, but she doesn’t even seem to have noticed that I’m here. Unable to bear it any longer, I take a few steps and deliberately plant myself in her path. Max stumbles to a halt, almost bumping into me.

“I’m sorry for running out on you like that, Katie,” she says after a long pause. “I panicked, and it felt like I was suffocating indoors.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. What happened?”

“When I looked at that picture of Chloe and me, it moved.” She pulls the Polaroid out of her pocket. “When I looked at this the same thing happened.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It’s how I knew I could use my powers to jump into a photo.”

“I thought you lost that power.” I say, with mounting apprehension.

“I did, that’s why I could never go back to save Chloe again after finding out that letting her die didn’t stop the storm.” She sighs. “I think that whatever happened this morning has reactivated it.”

That’s when it clicks. I only briefly glimpsed the photo Max is holding, but it was enough to know where it was taken; now I realize _when_ it was taken: minutes before Nathan shot Chloe. Max can use it to go back and save her, and then… the last few years will rewrite themselves. The two of them will probably be off living a happy life together, and I… I’ll still be at school in Portland. Alone. Of course, there’s another possibility, but I don’t even want to consider that. Either way, I know what I have to do. Deep down, I’ve always known that Max’s feelings for Chloe never went away, only the fact that she’s gone allowing _me_ to find a place in Max’s heart.

I take Max’s hands in my own. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. More than anything else, I wanted to be the cause of that happiness. But, if I can’t be that, then I refuse to stand in the way. Chloe is the unstoppable force in your life, she always has been; so I have to move.”

Max gives me a crooked grin. “I know what you’re quoting, you know.”

“Then you know I’m serious.” It’s from one of our favorite films, and we’ve had more than one debate about that particular scene.

“I hate this power,” says Max, vehemently. “It made me choose between Chloe’s life and hundreds of others – or, at least, that’s what I thought. I was wrong, and I let Chloe sacrifice herself for _nothing_. Here I am again, with her life in my hands.” There’s a long moment where I want to say something, but can’t find the words, and then she continues. “Last time I had the impossible choice of saving the woman I love, or untold strangers. At least I don’t have that problem now.”

Max lets go of me and takes a step backwards, holding up the photo. “Goodbye,” she whispers. I close my eyes, waiting for the world around me to change. I hear a ripping sound, then another, and another. Somehow, I was expecting something more dramatic; this seems a little anticlimactic.

I open my eyes to see Max dropping the torn fragments of the Polaroid on the ground. “I… don’t understand,” I tell her.

“What’s not to understand?” she asks. “ _You’re_ the woman I love. The woman I’m _in love_ with. You’ve been my rock, my…” she smiles, “my immovable object. And that means I have to stay.”

“But… Chloe…”

“Sure, I could have used that photo to go back and try to save her, but then what? In that timeline, the two of us watched the storm from up by the lighthouse; I wouldn’t have been in the town, driven by grief and range to save lives. How many more people would have died that day? Add to that I’d be convinced that my powers were what caused the storm; I’d have never used them again, never become the Portland Ninja, never saved all _those_ people. Chloe didn’t want me to sacrifice others to save her then, and she wouldn’t want it now.”

Max steps forward and pulls me into her arms. “Most of all, in that timeline I almost certainly wouldn’t have you, and I couldn’t bear the idea of that.”

“Even if it meant you had Chloe instead?” I ask, allowing the last of my insecurities to show.

“Even then. That stopped being a trade I’d be willing to make a long time ago.”

I hold her tight. “I love you so much… but we should probably head back inside. Your mom was worried about you.”

“Yeah,” she says, releasing me. “I think I need to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

Max shrugs. “Everything”

* * *

After dinner, we all retire to the front room, and Max begins to tell her story, starting with that fateful week in Arcadia Bay. Ryan and Vanessa’s intense skepticism turns to deep shock when she demonstrates her rewind power for them, and then horror as she relates the details of the Dark Room. Finally, she tells them about Chloe’s sacrifice and how cruelly futile it had been. After that, the three of them cling together, crying; I realize that of course Max’s parents must have known Chloe well, considering how close the two of the had been.

Once they’ve recovered, I take up the narrative, telling them about my suicide attempt and how Max had talked me down. Then I talk about the rescue efforts, all the people I’d met who Max had saved, and finding her up by the lighthouse.

“I remember now,” says Vanessa, “you were with Max when we collected her.” She winces. “I’m sorry, we were rather rude to you that day.”

“That’s okay,” I assure her, “you were worried about your daughter, and I know what it’s like to worry about Max.” I glance meaningfully at her sling, then go on to tell them about how she’d become the Portland Ninja, all the lives she’d saved, and how incredibly proud of her I am. I see that same pride reflected in her parents’ eyes.

“So… is that how your arm got broken?” asks Ryan.

“Not exactly,” says Max. “There’s one more thing I have to tell you; it ties into how I got hurt, and the reason for our surprise visit. It’s pretty scary, and we’re not sure it’s over yet.” As if on cue, her phone rings; she glances at it, then hands it to me. “Would you?”

“Of course,” I tell her, hurrying out of the room as I answer it. “Hi, Yasmin.”

“Kate?” She sounds surprised. “Is Max alright?”

“Yes, she’s with her parents, telling them all about, well, everything.”

“I don’t envy her _that_ conversation. At least I have some good news for you: the FBI caught our mad bomber.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“He broke into your apartment, but was gone by the time the cops got there. Just to be safe, the bomb squad swept the place to make sure that he didn’t leave you any unpleasant surprises. By that point, the Feds had traced his computer and they were waiting for him when he got home. Apparently he was very distressed to find out that he wasn’t quite as clever as he thought he was.”

“So it’s over?”

“Yeah. Arson at an orphanage and bombs in a school? He’s never going to take another breath of free air.”

“Good,” I tell her, “it’s almost enough to make me wish the Governor hadn’t put a moratorium on executions. Almost.”

Yasmin is silent for a moment. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It isn’t, I find the very idea of the death penalty abhorrent, but I felt the same way about Nathan and Jefferson – it’s much harder to hold onto your morals when you or someone you love is involved. But for all that the dark part of me wants revenge, my heart tells me that it’s wrong. Knowing that they’ll be spending the rest of their lives in prison… that’s enough.”

“Good; I don’t want you losing your soul over this.”

“Anyway, thank-you so much for letting us know, and for the warning this morning.”

“One more thing: are _you_ okay?” Yasmin asks, and I can tell she suspects what happened before Max’s mystery rewind.

“Yeah, I’m not the one who had to watch someone I love die. Again. Somehow, hearing about it is more… surreal than anything else. Max, on the other hand… I’m really worried about her. If this morning wasn’t bad enough, she took a second emotional hit this evening. I’m terrified she’s going to have another meltdown.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that, but between you and her parents, at least she’s in the best possible hands.”

“I hope so. Thanks again, Yasmin.”

“You’re welcome. If there’s anything I can do to help, anything at all, just let me know. Oh, and give me a call when you’re heading back to Portland; I’ve got the keys for the new lock the Feds put on your apartment door.”

“Will do. I’m not sure when that will be, though. We haven’t talked about how long we’re going to stay here.”

“That’s fine, I’ll be here. You go take care of Max. ’Night Kate.”

“Goodnight, Yasmin.”

I hang up, than take a deep breath and go back into the front room. Max looks up as I go in, the question on her face.

“They caught him”, I tell her at once. “We’re safe.”

“Oh, thank God!” She leaps up to hug me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Ryan and Vanessa holding each other as well. After a while, Max turns to look at them. “We’re going to head to bed. I really need to get some sleep.”

“Of course,” says Ryan. “Goodnight.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” adds Vanessa. “Sleep well.”

Max leads me up to her room. Slowly, tenderly, we undress each other and climb into her bed. Neither of us is sure what we want. “I know you promised me a repeat of this morning’s performance,” I say, “but if you want to take a rain-check…”

Max’s relief is palpable. “Thanks, I’m really not feeling in the mood for that tonight; I just want to be held.”

I’m happy to oblige, spooning Max from behind and giving her gentle caresses. I can feel her slowly relaxing, and she begins to sigh softly. I take that as a cue to allow my hand to wander more freely, finding a breast and tracing slowly around the nipple. Soon, Max shifts, so she’s more on her back, allowing me to shift my attention to her other breast. I lean over, and my lips meet hers; my hand trails down her body and between her legs, finding the silky skin of her inner thighs.

When Max makes an impatient noise and she presses up against my hand, I briefly dip a fingertip inside her to lubricate it, then begin stroking her lips, gradually shifting more and more focus to her clit. Her moans are muffled against my mouth, and she tangles one hand in my hair while the other clutches at my back. I move my hand faster, and soon she’s shuddering as she comes. It doesn’t feel so much like an earth-shattering orgasm as it does a much needed release.

“Thanks,” murmurs Max when her shaking stops and our lips finally part, “I needed that.”

“I know, my love,” I whisper as my hand resumes its original gentle caresses. “Now get some rest.”

“Love… you too,” Max replies sleepily as she turns back to her side and I pull her close. It’s barely a minute before her breathing changes and I know she’s asleep. I allow myself to relax, and it’s not long before I join her.

We get a good couple of hours’ rest before the first of her nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I _am_ writing a superhero story, so I thought I should use the old trope of a seemingly inescapable cliff-hanger that gets resolved in the first few panels of the next issue – I just hope it wasn't too _Deus Ex Maxina_. It may be a little while until before I get the final chapter of this written; these last two were always intended to be posted back-to-back.


	7. Chapter 7

I’m jolted awake by Max’s distress at what must be her fourth or fifth nightmare. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I tell her softly, “I’m here.” She curls into my chest, sobbing. Last time there was some dim light filtering through the curtains, and now it’s bright enough for me to be sure that morning’s here. I decide that there’s not much point us trying to get back to sleep again.

“I hate this,” Max mumbles after a while. “I only just got rid of the last set of nightmares, and now it seems I can’t close my eyes without seeing…” She clearly can’t bring herself to finish that sentence.

“I’m sorry, my love, but it’s not real; not in this timeline. All you have to do is wake up, and I’ll be right here beside you.”

“Always?” she asks in a small voice that almost breaks my heart.

“And forever,” I reassure her.

“You promise?” I can hear the desperate need in her voice.

“I…” That’s when I see it: the future stretching ahead of us with all its possibilities, and I can’t imagine a single version of it where I could bear to be without Max. I want us to get through this trauma together, to build a life together, to grow old and grey together. I look down at my hand, at the antique silver ring on its index finger – something my Grandma passed down to me a few months ago. Slowly, I pull it off and hold it up to Max. “I promise. Do you?”

Her eyes widen as they take in the ring, then meet mine. “Kate… what…”

“Will you marry me, Max?”

“I… are you sure, Kate? It’s only been a few months since we got together…”

“I think we both know it’s been a lot longer than that,” I tell her gently. “It just took us a couple of years to admit it to ourselves.”

Max gives me a crooked grin. “I guess you’re right. Seeing as I’m hella in love with you, and I don’t even want to _think_ about a future without you, I’m going to have to say yes to your proposal.”

The smile expands across my face until it feels like it stretches from ear to ear. Max holds out her hand, and I slip the ring onto it’s new home. I take the fact that it’s a perfect fit as a sign that this is meant to be. Then Max’s lips find mine, and all rational thought is swept away.

Some time later, there’s a knock at the door. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” calls Vanessa.

Max tears her mouth away from mine. “Okay, thanks. We’ll be right down.” She gives me one last kiss, then climbs out of bed to root through our suitcase. After a moment, a pair of pajamas lands next to me. “Might as well put these on for now, we can have a shower after breakfast.”

“Once your parents have left for work,” I suggest, “so we can share without it being awkward.”

“What a shocking idea!” says Max in mock surprise. “And to think you were once president of the abstinence club…”

“That was a lifetime ago,” I tell her softly.

“For both of us,” agrees Max.

“Besides, we’re engaged now, and more than a few people would agree that’s a good point to drop the whole abstinence thing rather than holding out until the actual wedding night…”

It’s not long before we’re sat around the breakfast bar while Ryan cooks us eggs. Max has her left hand resting on the counter, and actually goes so far as wiggling her finger a little. Even so, it’s a moment before Vanessa notices.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” she begins, before trailing off – clearly she’s realized the significance of which finger it’s on. “Is there something you neglected to tell us last night, Maxine?”

I wince at the use of her full name, but Max takes it in her stride. “No, but then there was nothing to tell last night. Kate only proposed to me this morning.”

There’s a loud clattering that can only be Ryan dropping the frying pan. “You’re getting married?” Max nods, and he sweeps her out of her chair and into a bear hug. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you,” he adds, glancing at me, “we couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law.”

Vanessa takes her turn hugging Max, while Ryan goes to rescue the eggs. “I’m thrilled for you,” she says, “and Kate, I hope you’ll consider yourself a member of the family _now_ , rather than waiting until after the wedding.”

“I’d like that,” I tell her shyly, “I’m not sure how much of _my_ family I’ll have left once I tell them.”

Vanessa frowns. “Because you’re marrying a Max _ine_ rather than a Max _well_?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. No-one should have to put up with such prejudice, least of all from their own flesh and blood.” She holds out her arms, and I surprise myself by stepping into them.

“Thank-you,” I tell her, my voice heavy with emotion. I can’t remember the last time my own mother hugged me.

Our little surprise means that Max’s parents end up in a rush to get off to work. Once they’re gone, we take our shower, not leaving it until all the hot water is gone – and our engagement appropriately celebrated.

It’s my first time in Seattle, so Max insists that we do some sight-seeing. “We’ll start with the Space Needle,” she says, “since you already have my head in the clouds.” I groan at that. “Plus, I haven’t been up there since I was thirteen.”

“I suppose it’s less exciting when it’s part of your skyline every day.”

“Exactly. First, though, I need some more coffee, and that’s something this city is famous for.”

“Fine, as long as we aren’t going to a certain well-known Seattle-based chain.”

“Of course not; Starbucks was created to convince the rest of the world that Seattle has _terrible_ coffee, so we can keep the good stuff to ourselves.”

“That explains so much…”

* * *

By Tuesday, we’ve pretty much run out of things to do, and Max’s nightmares are already back down to once a night. With the Ninja’s foe in the hands of the FBI, there’s nothing preventing us from returning home. There’s a stop I want to make on the way, though. “I’d like to visit my Grandma on the drive back to Portland,” I tell Max. “She’s the one adult in my family who’s never judged me in any way, and I don’t want to hide our relationship from her any longer. I think she’ll be okay with it, but…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Max says, cutting me off. “You’ve been visiting her at least once a month for as long as I can remember, so you must have a pretty good read on her. If you think she’ll be okay with this, then you’re probably right.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” I say, giving her a quick kiss. I call Grandma to make arrangements; she’s excited to finally meet my ‘roommate’, and already planning lunch for us. That done, I call Yasmin to confirm we’ll be back the following evening. Knowing that there won’t be any food in our apartment, she insists that we stay for dinner at her place and, after checking with Max, I gratefully accept.

Since we aren’t in a hurry, we don’t bother with packing until the next day, after we’ve had breakfast with Ryan and Vanessa and said our goodbyes. It’s mid-morning by the time we hit the road, and it takes us a couple of hours to reach Castle Rock. I pull up outside of Grandma’s modest bungalow just after noon.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Max asks me nervously.

“Sure? No,” I tell her as we get out of the car. “But of all my family, Grandma’s the one I’m most confident will be okay with us.” I lead Max up the path and press the doorbell. It’s only a few moments before the door opens.

“Katie! It’s so lovely to see you again.” She pulls me into a hug and, as always, the strength in her seemingly fragile body surprises me.

“I’m glad to find you in good spirits and good health, Grandma,” I tell her. She releases me and turns to my fiancée.

“And you must me Max,” she says.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Marsh.”

“Please, call me Beverley,” she says, taking Max’s hands. “Katie has told me all about you; thank-you for looking after my favorite granddaughter.”

“I think you’ve been misinformed,” Max tells her with a smile. “Kate’s the one who looks after me.”

Grandma lifts up Max’s left hand, studies it for a moment, then looks at me with a sly grin. “I see the ring I gave you has finally made it’s way to the proper place.”

“Wait…” I sputter, “what?”

“That was my mother’s engagement ring; why did you think I gave it to you?” I simply gape at her in stunned disbelief, and allow myself to be led through to the kitchen, where the three of us sit down.

“You always talked about Max when you came to visit me; her name was sprinkled liberally throughout our conversations. It became clear to me that you were in love with her, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself. I gave you the ring because I wanted you to be prepared when the time came.”

I smile at her. “You were right, and if I hadn’t been wearing it, then I might not have been inspired to propose. So, thank-you for that, and for accepting me; I know that a lot of our family won’t.”

“How could I not?”

“I’m not sure I understand…”

The doorbell rings, and Grandma gets up to answer it. “You will. There are a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” A minute or so later, she returns, accompanied by two other women who look to be of an age with her. “Kate, I’d like you to meet by big sister Anna, and her partner Justine. Anna, this is my granddaughter Kate, and her fiancée Max.”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” says Anna. “Beverley has told me so much about you.” I simply gape at her for a few moments. _I have a great aunt that none of my family have ever told me about – and she’s gay too!_

Finally, I find my voice. “It’s wonderful to meet you too, although I’m afraid I’ve never heard of you at all!” I manage, wincing inwardly at my clumsy words.

Anna smiles sadly. “I know. My parents, your parents, your aunt… they all prefer to pretend that I don’t exist, like I’m some shameful secret.” Justine puts a comforting arm around her, then guides her to a chair.

“I’m worried that they’ll do the same to me,” I admit.

“It’s certainly possible,” Grandma tells me, “but we’ll stick by you, and I very much doubt that Lynn and Ruth will want to let their big sister go any more than I did mine.”

“There you go, five people for your side of our wedding guest-list already,” says Max encouragingly.

“That’s more than I expected,” I admit. “Assuming you’ll all come, of course?”

“We’d love to,” Anna tells me.

There’s a ringing noise from the counter, and soon Grandma has me setting the table while she pulls a casserole dish and some baked potatoes from out of the oven. The smell makes my mouth water, and reminds me of all the happy times I had here; we visited frequently while I was growing up. Grandma serves the food, and I ferry plates to the table.

“So, how did you two ladies meet?” Max asks.

“It was our first year at university,” says a misty-eyed Justine. “Anna was the most beautiful girl I’d ever set eyes on, so I made it my business to get to know her.”

“Your memory must be playing up again,” laughs Anna. “ _You_ were the beautiful one.” She turns to Max and me. “I was never interested in boys at high school like all my friends were. I just couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Then I took one look at Justine, and I realized why.”

“It still took six months to persuade her to go on a date with me, though, thanks to her parents’ influence.”

“I know what that’s like,” I mutter.

Anna reaches out and rests a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Kate. From what Beverley has told me, your parents were even worse than ours. I’m proud that you managed to find your way. I’ve had more than fifty happy years thanks to Justine; I wish you and Max the same.”

“Thank-you,” I tell her, a little embarrassed.

“Anyway, your turn: how did your romance begin?”

Max and I share a look, and by unspoken agreement we give them an edited version of our friendship and relationship, leaving out any reference to Max’s time powers. The five of us chat happily for hours, and it’s late afternoon by the time we leave. Max makes a quick call to Yasmin to let her know we’re on our way, while I say my final good-byes, along with the promise that we’ll visit again soon.

An hour and a half later, we arrive at the address Yasmin gave me; it’s a row of townhouses in a leafy suburb. Max raises an eyebrow at me. “I sure as hell don’t begrudge firefighters getting a decent salary, but this seems a little excessive.”

I get out of the car and take a quick look. “It’s just the basement unit,” I tell Max.

“Okay, that makes more sense.” I roll my eyes at her, lead the way downstairs, and knock at the door. A moment later, it springs open and I find myself enfolded in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Yasmin tells me. “Both of you,” she adds, giving Max a hug too. “Come on inside.”

“So… please tell me you live in your Mom’s basement,” Max begins, clearly trying to relieve the tension.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but no. My landlady _is_ an old family friend though, so she doesn’t gouge me on the rent, and trusts me with access to the garden. A good thing too, or I wouldn’t be able to have Rajah here.”

I look down to see a large ginger cat prowl across the room and butt his head against my leg. I immediately get down on my knees to pet him. “Well, aren’t you gorgeous?” I say. Then, giving Yasmin a knowing look, “Rajah?”

She grins back at me. “I couldn’t resist.”

Max is sporting a confused expression. “You have seen the Disney version of _Aladdin_ , right?” I ask her.

“Once, a long time ago…”

“Princess Jasmine has a pet tiger called Rajah,” I explain, delighted to have, for once, picked up a pop culture reference that Max had missed. “Come say hello, he won’t bite.” She sits down next to me and starts stroking him; he purrs loudly at all the attention he’s getting.

The doorbell rings, and I look up to see Yasmin letting Izzy in. Once they’ve said hello, I get up and give her a hug. “Yasmin filled me in on what happened,” she tells me quietly, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. How are you coping?”

“I’m okay. Glad it’s over.”

“And your girlfriend?” She nods to where Max is scratching behind the ears of a blissed-out cat.

“Not great, but she’ll get there – and she’s not my girlfriend any more.” Izzy gives me a concerned look as I continue, more loudly, “hey, sweetie, show the ladies what I gave you.” Max looks up, confused for moment, then grins and lifts her left hand for Yasmin to inspect. “She’s my fiancée now,” I tell Izzy with what I imagine is a pretty goofy grin.

“Congratulations!” she says, with a huge smile, “I’m so happy for you.” Yasmin is holding Max’s hand, examining the ring, and then pulls her into another big hug. “And I think you ‘put a ring on it’ just in time,” Izzy adds with a laugh.

I smile back at her. “Oh, I trust Yasmin not to try anything – and I trust that Max isn’t interested in anyone but me.”

Izzy sighs. “I envy you that.”

“Trouble in paradise?” I ask.

“Maybe,” she admits, “and it would be good to talk about it, but this isn’t the time or the place.”

“Okay, let’s grab a coffee sometime soon, then.”

“I’d like that.”

I glance back at the others, and Yasmin catches my eye. “You’ve reeled in quite the catch here, Kate. You’re a lucky woman.”

“Yes, I am.”

“We both are,” agrees Max, coming over to put an arm around me.

“I’m looking forward to getting my wedding invitation,” says Yasmin.

“Whoa there, we haven’t even started to think about that yet, and Kate needs to finish university first. So we won’t be sending invites out any time soon… and do we even need to send them to members of the bridal party?”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m going to need a maid of honor…” Max tells her.

“…and so will I,” I add, turning to Izzy. “What do you say?”

She blinks. “Surely there must be people who’ve know you longer than me…”

“Perhaps, but they’re all either casual acquaintances or too far away. Max and I discussed this on the way down; my back-up choice is my former high-school bully.”

Izzy cracks a grin. “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want that.” I look round to see Max and Yasmin emerging from the kitchen with some wine glasses and a bottle of Champagne. “Were you expecting this?”

“No,” Yasmin replies, “but I always have a bottle of bubbly in the fridge in case of emergencies.”

“I like your thinking,” Izzy tells her as she carefully works the cork out.

“Unfortunately my parents didn’t, the last time they visited. While they’ve actually been pretty tolerant of my choice not to practice, they ‘don’t appreciate me rubbing it in their face,’ as my mother said when she found it.” She hands out glasses, then holds hers up. “To the future brides.”

“To Kate and Max,” adds Izzy as well all clink our glasses together. “So,” she begins after taking a drink, “wedding plans aside, have you thought about the future of the Portland Ninja?”

“I have,” answers Max, “and after a few weeks off for my arm to heal, the Ninja will be back in action.” We discussed this at length while we were in Seattle, and after a few misunderstandings, we’d agreed that we both wanted her to do it – and that we’d both try not to worry too much about the other. That last part is probably going to be easier said than done, but I know Max is doing the right thing, and I there’s no way I’m going to put my peace of mind above other people’s lives.

“Bravo,” says Yasmin. She looks like she’s about to say more, but is interrupted by a buzzer from the kitchen. Instead she gestures for us all to sit down at her small dining table. It’s a bit of a squeeze with four of us, especially once Yasmin comes back with a huge dish of enchiladas, but somehow we manage. And so I spend the next couple of hours with the woman I love and our two best friends; eating, drinking, laughing, and talking about our future together.

Life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we reach the end of this story; I hope you’ve enjoyed it. I have no doubt that the Portland Ninja has many more adventures ahead of her, hopefully at some point in the future a plot bunny will hop into view and allow me to record another of them. For now, though, I have stories of other Kates, other Maxes, and other characters to finish…


End file.
